


Crossfire

by aurorlupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death Eaters, F/M, Gen, Marauders' Era, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Slow Burn, Slytherin, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2019-08-22 20:19:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16604822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurorlupin/pseuds/aurorlupin
Summary: Sixth year Andromeda Black calls for the wizarding world to stand up to the fear and hatred the Death Eaters are spreading but unbeknownst to her, the Dark Lord has sent his newest marked follower to earn her trust and silence her for good.





	1. Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I started writing forever ago on ff.net thats getting a revamp and repost over here on ao3. I love this story and I love feedback so leave me some love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter soundtrack: Fire - Barns County

**Crossfire: Chapter One**

_Thomas Nott_

The first thing Thomas recalled about the clearing, the one thing that stuck out in his mind more than anything was how dark the sky was. It was almost as if the pinpricks of light that normally illuminated the sky or the moonbeams that shown down from the heavens couldn't reach him. Also there was that feeling in the air of that circle of ghastly figures. It was like heavy air before a lightening storm, electricity that vibrated in the very night, pressing in and choking him.

The second, oddly enough, were the Dark Lord's feet as they stepped over the fallen leaves and dying grass. Where as they encircled him clad in their flowing hand made cloaks, their faceless masks, assorted wands tucked within the folds of their expensive robes beneath, the Dark Lord stood in much simpler apparel. Not only had he decided against shoes that night, but he dressed himself in what appeared to be a simple, shapeless, black fabric. Thomas recalled the mystics of the old religions that were one with nature, both giving and taking from the source they respected so devoutly. It seemed hardly fitting that a man such as this would bring up such a thought but perhaps he did draw his power from such a source. Perhaps he just harnessed it and wielded it for much more dark and sinister purposes.

It was only the second time that skull and snake on Thomas' arm had burned and it sent the same shiver down his spine as it had the first time. Again, his father had been there to instruct him. Thomas had wondered if his father's heart still quickened when he was beckoned. He would think that he would be used to it but perhaps that quick mix of fear and excitement was something the Dark Lord had intended when he devised such a beckoning system. His father was one of Voldemort's earliest followers, a fact he was certainly proud of. So it was no surprise that he would gladly offer his only son into the services of his Lord even before that child had graduated from Hogwarts.

It wasn't that Thomas didn't agree with the ideals behind the Death Eaters. He was raised in the upper tier of pureblood society, which as a whole was overwhelmingly sympathetic to the mission of the Dark Lord. He would be lying if he said that he had a soft spot for muggle born witches and wizards and of course he held myself to a higher standard. Unlike his masked brethren, he wasn't so concerned about it at the time to have actively sought out membership within Voldemort's circle. He would have rather carried out his pureblooded male duties in an alternate way, perhaps simply marrying a respectable pureblooded young woman would have been enough. However he was smart enough not to put up much of a fuss when his father approached with the proposition. Would he have changed his decision to take the mark knowing how everything turned out? He wasn't sure.

At least being marked had come to pass during his summer holiday. He had some guidance readily available to him and he wasn't alone. Thomas had shared a ceremony with a small number of other young men who would be putting about the dungeons with him upon return to the castle. Lucius Malfoy and Walden MacNair being two of them. Their little seventh year Slytherin boys' dormitory would contain some rather intimidating young gentlemen that year. But right now, it was those two boys that he stood beside on that chilly August evening. They had a tendency to huddle together at such events. He would never admit it was because they may have all realized they were a bit over their heads and needed to draw some strength from their solidarity.

The Dark Lord had been huddled within the circle, surrounded by his closest and most loyal servants who had the good fortune of being counted as such, his inner circle at the time. Thomas knew his father stood with his master. He picked his profile out almost instantly. Beside the Dark Lord stood a much slighter figure he imagined was Bellatrix Black, no doubt with her fiance, Rodolphus. Though she was only three years Thomas' senior she had joined the ranks of the Dark Lord and rose to be one of Voldemort's most trusted servants and for good reason. She had the reputation for possessing a ferocity that overshadowed the oldest and most hardened Death Eaters. This coupled with her almost compulsive loyalty to the Dark Lord made her Voldemort's "pet," if he could have such things.

A hush fell over those assembled as their master turned to finally address their presence that night. Beside him Thomas saw Lucius straighten his back as Voldemort's eyes scanned over the three of them, lingering for a moment before he began to draw closer. In his hand he clutched a roll of parchment. Instantly Thomas felt a chill down his spine. His father had mentioned that parchment was the reason they had been called and from the tense whispers of those gathered he had come to understand that whatever had been written upon it had upset the Dark Lord immensely.

"I have gathered you here this evening to share an interesting piece of literature that has recently been brought to my attention. Some of you may have seen it, as I have been told it has made it's way into a number of establishments in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley today. I must say I find myself...disappointed that it was allowed to be seen by so many."

Thomas didn't have much time to contemplate that fact however, as Voldemort's great sweeping figure broke through the assembled and came to stand before him, staring down his nose as he noticeably tried not to cower. It was his eyes, his eyes, whose gaze seared through flesh and facade to come to rest on the very soul it was set upon. It seemed as if it was hours before the Dark Lord finally lifted his hand clutching the parchment, peering down at Thomas through the silence and thickness that had come to set around all gathered there that night. Thomas felt the sweat roll off his face and down his back in cool beads.

"Now child," the Dark Lord breathed as he beckoned him closer to him with the crook of a claw like finger. "Read it."

Thomas reached forward, willing his hand to stop the tremors that so visibly shook his whole arm as he reached forward and took the parchment that was offered, turning so that he could address the circle. He cleared his throat, and began.

_"I clearly remember when I was a child my father used to tell me how special I was, that I was not like many other children. I'm sure that many parents tell their children the same thing, but there was always a very specific thing that made me special and that was my last name and my blood. Now I wish that it was for some other reason, perhaps because I smiled a lot, or I was a beautiful baby, or I displayed skill or intelligence at a young age, but even then it would have been attributed to my name and not to my own person.I grew up with magic, it was a part of me as well as it was all around me, and when I got my letter to attend Hogwarts it was already expected. I went with family and friends, people I had grown up with. My teachers knew of my family, and many thought that I was special as well. I didn't have to try particularly hard to fit in or to master simple spells. And that got me thinking..._

_What would happen if I found myself in the muggle world with no access to magic? I would have to try and adjust to the society and find a place within it all on my own. I would have to work harder than muggles who had woken up every day of their lives in the same place with the same people and had developed their skills from a young age. Even the simplest things would be a struggle at first; how to get from place to place, how to dress, what to do for recreation etc. No doubt muggles would see me as different and I would have to try twice as hard every day to do the things that were second nature to them, that they didn't even have to think about. I would like to think that I could persevere, but who knows._

_The muggleborn students at Hogwarts must feel the same way, except there is a very large part of the equation that adds to their hardships and that would be the prejudice of pureblooded witches and wizards. The fact that in a few days I will be sitting side by side with a muggleborn in my classroom and have him or her perform just as well on a task as I can astounds me. For lack of words I respect them, because I will never know what they had to go through to do that. Where as I simply opened my book, practiced a bit, and applied knowledge I have had my whole life to the situation at hand, they may have had to tirelessly work to achieve the same result. And while they were working in the back of their mind they must know that they are believed to be inferior, that they are unworthy to sit in class with us, shouldn't be learning these things._

_What astounds me further is that many of them wish to do things to better our world. They want to be healers, perhaps. They want to help us who do nothing but look down our noses. Why? Because of our names and our blood? Blood that we tell ourselves is pure, even though we know that somewhere along those generations there was someone who had "dirty blood" and that their blood still flows in our veins. We would rather blast it off of our family trees and put it out of of minds and go on pretending that we are better._

_Now there are people close to me, closer than I would care to think of in fact, that are willing to kill and to die for the illusion of their blood. While they are committing violence against the muggleborns, they are simply trying to make a place in our world that they have fought for and earned, and perhaps even make it a little better. I myself will not stand for this. It is time that we stand up together and say enough to this fanaticism that threatens our society and our way of life. If you refused to be kept silent with fear, join me in condemning this madness."_

Thomas lowered the parchment, risking a glance around the circle as if he could draw reactions from the expressionless masks that surrounded him. Perhaps it was a good thing he couldn't. What he could see was the reaction of his Lord. The ghost of a smile flicked across Voldemort's lips as he finished, his finger pressed to the side of his head as though he was deep in thought. Silence stretched on for an uncomfortable amount of time before Voldeomort decided to speak.

"An interesting perspective is it not?" he began, so quiet Thomas almost had to tilt his head closer to hear him. "What you have just heard is a call to your fellow pureblood witches and wizards to take a stand against you. You who put yourself in danger in order to protect your legacy and your way of life. You who fight against the onslaught of undeserving vermin who flood our society, stealing a power that they can not even hope to understand, who risk the exposure of our world and our abilities to filthy Muggles everywhere. This simply can not stand. We must find the author of this treachery and call them here answer for their misgivings."

He was yelling now, turning wildly on his heel to speak to everyone that was assembled, drawing roars of outrage from his children as he went. He was rousing their hatred, their fear, playing upon it and using it to bend them to his will. It was working. The Death Eaters were incensed. Surely they would expect this kind of talk from the Muggleborn families that were threatened, but not from one of their own.

"Now...can anyone tell me which of our begotten sons or daughters distributed this foulness?" He yanked the parchment out of Thomas' hand and tossed it in the air, instantly it erupted into an explosion of green flames before it's charred remains floated back down to rest upon the grass, much to the delight of his fellow Death Eaters.

"My Lord, if I may...," Bellatrix had stepped forward, her body sinking into an elaborate bow. Her head tilted upward as the Dark Lord approached her, staring through her ghastly mask as she waited to be addressed. When she received a nod of his head she straightened her back and continued, her voice full of contempt and barely contained rage as she spat out her words. "I have a suspicion that the author of that trash may very well be someone close to me. As unfortunate as it is, while I was listening I could only think that it sounds as if it came right from my younger sister's mouth. Andromeda has always entertained some...ill conceived notions about her blood and kept company with filth far below her own position. I do believe she may have finally turned her back on her own. If that is the case, my Lord, then she must be dealt with swiftly, before her poisonous ideas spread further and do our cause harm."

Thomas watched in stunned silence as Bellatrix offered her sister up as if she was some sacrifice to the will of her god, hoping it would please him. Not that he had harbored any sweet thoughts of Andromeda in his own mind at this point. It had nothing to due with her appearance either, it was well known that the three Black sisters were known for their endowments. If it weren't for Bellatrix's mental instability he would have certainly entertained some thoughts about her and if anything, the middle Black sister was a more approachable and less terrifying version of the elder. They shared the same tall, thin build, dark hair and patrician features however everything about Andromeda was softer. Wavy brown hair and wide brown doe-like eyes replaced Bella's jet black. She also lacked that air of entitlement that was not lost upon her sisters.

She was a year behind Thomas' seven at Hogwarts and he couldn't recall any conversation he had with the girl that extended beyond an exchange of pleasantries at a family party or a nod in the hallways of the dungeons. He was quite aware she did not share her sister's fervor for blood purity and openly spent time in the company of Mudbloods. She didn't seem to present much a threat to him, rather quiet and bookish, aloof from a majority of her Slytherin housemates who managed to keep their contempt for her actions and company to themselves for the most part if only due to her last name and a slight fear of her older sister.

Thomas was shaken from his thoughts when he was recognized once more by the Dark Lord, his hand coming to fall upon his shoulder. Thomas jumped, despite himself as Voldemort pulled him with him into the center of the circle and instantly he dropped to his knee to submit to his Lord's will, whatever it would be. Somewhere deep within himself Thomas felt something scream in protest, as if it knew that this was the starting point of a long road for him, one that would be lined with his blood and the blood of others. Something that would alter the rather carefree life he had enjoyed up until this point.

"I want you to do something for me, Thomas," Voldemort purred, his eyes on Thomas' father as if assigning this responsibility to him was somehow payment for the years of service his father had offered him. "You'll be going back to that castle very soon, yes? I want you to put yourself in this girl's way. I want her to trust you and I want you to tell me what she is planning to do, if it is just her distributing these riotous little documents or if there is some group under the protection of that old fool ready to emerge into this world and cause me problems. I want to know who she talks to. And if it comes to be that you think she can be even the tiniest annoyance to what we are accomplishing here, I want you to bring her to me. Can you do this?"

Thomas risked a glance up to look in the direction of where his father had stood and he could almost feel his gaze burning into him. Burning with pride and need. Proud that his son had been recognized by the man he pledged his life to and a need for Thomas to fulfill this task in order to keep them in his good graces. Thomas inhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment as the weight of what was asked of him fell on his shoulders. He could very well be responsible for the death of a young witch, one that had at least been his acquaintance since he was a child. Against his better judgement, he inclined his head respectfully.

"I would be honored to, My Lord."

And it was done.


	2. Lost Cause

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter soundtrack: Lost Cause - Beck

**Crossfire: Chapter Two**

_Andromeda Black_

The sight of the Hogwarts Express rolling into the platform always made Andromeda's spirits soar and the September first of her sixth year was no exception. For some reason ever since her first year, the closer it got to eleven o'clock the more she began to worry. Perhaps the train would be held up or had to stop to replace a part along the tracks and her departure for the castle would be delayed. But every year the train never failed to show up on time, right down to the second. As she watched it come to a stop, steam poured out to alert everyone mulling about the platform of it's arrival and she heaved a sigh of relief.

She had been leaning against her cart which was piled high with her belongings for the school year, watching all of the families part way as students slowly began to trickle onto the train. Her vision came to rest on Ted Tonks, a sixth year Hufflepuff boy who had more often than not been assigned to prefect rounds with her last year. For once his uniform didn't look as though he had been sleeping in it, something that she teased him about endlessly. The usually rumpled looking Ted looked quite prim indeed, most likely his mother's doing. Even his flyaway curly blond hair looked well kept. He caught her gaze and smiled, offering an enthusiastic wave before beckoning for her to come over. She smiled, catching sight of his mother who eyed her quite quizzically. Andromeda knew that look well. The "who is this member of the opposite sex my child is interacting with," look. She would get along well with her own mother if it wasn't for her distaste for anyone that couldn't trace their magical lineage back into the Middle Ages.

"Andromeda!"

She winced as the sound of her mother's harsh voice stopped her right in her tracks. She turned back to face her, appearing as innocent as possible and hoping her mother hadn't noticed the exchange. All she needed was for Druella to wrinkle her nose at Ted's rather middle class and quite obviously Muggle family.

"Hmmm?"

"Who is that boy?" Druella snapped, narrowing her dark eyes in disapproval as she followed Andromeda's gaze.

Andromeda was so happy she had turned away. She didn't want to see the expression on the normally carefree Ted's face when he found himself on the receiving end of that look.

"I hope he isn't trying to get your attention."

"Oh, that's Ted," she answered simply and before dear Mum had a chance to speak the number of hateful things that she was likely considering, Andromeda raised an eyebrow in mock interest and added, "What were we talking about?"

Druella sighed, her whole body conveying her lack of patience and annoyance with her daughter in that moment. Andromeda's eyes flicked to Narcissa at her side who was fiddling with her new prefect badge on her black robes with a hint of a smile before smoothing back her long blond hair in preparation for boarding. She cast her shockingly blue eyes toward Andromeda for a moment the way she did when she had done something she didn't approve of.

"Have you been listening to a word I've been saying? I was just telling your sister that I expect you two to come home with respectable young men for the Christmas party this year. Narcissa knows it's never to early to ingratiate yourself with a gentleman suitor. Bellatrix found herself a fine young man and it's about time that you two managed to do the same."

Andromeda knew her mother was only including Narcissa in this speech to keep her daughter from growing irritated with her in public. Narcissa needed no prodding in order to bring home a "gentleman suitor." Despite the fact that she was a year behind Andromeda, she was fairly sure her younger sister could bring home any pureblooded male in the school she set her sights on. All she would have to do was crook her finger and they would follow. Not just because the Black Family Christmas party was widely considered one of the most high class events of the year, but because Narcissa was going to develop into as close as you could get to the perfect well bred pureblood wife.

Andromeda's snarky reply that she would have to write to Uncle Alphard and beg him to take her to France with him over Winter Holidays again was interrupted by a covert tug on the folds of her robes from Narcissa. At first she thought it was an effort to keep the peace, but that was before she caught sight of the flash of blond hair that was quickly approaching.

Since Narcissa's first year the mere thought of interaction with Lucius Malfoy had made her sister practically fall over herself on the inside. On the outside she managed to keep her cool demeanor only by saying as little as she possibly could and avoiding any sort of movement, lest she embarrass herself. One Christmas she nearly took the whole tablecloth with her when he asked if she'd like to dance. Andromeda thought it was funny and endearing. Narcissa did not.

Still at the moment Andromeda failed to see the fatal attraction to Lucius that her sister shared with many a Slytherin witch. To her he looked like a more masculine version of Narcissa. Truly, they shared the same long, straight, blond hair, upturned nose, proud features, and flair for overstated dress. But that was just her opinion.

"Ladies," Lucius greeted them with a polite inclination of his head to their Mother. "Always a pleasure to see you and your lovely daughters, Ms. Black."

Andromeda did her very best at forcing a smile. Lucius Malfoy, though quite the gentleman in public, did not hold his tongue very well when he spoke of a number of her good friends of the Muggleborn persuasion in the common room. She had to speak to him about his choice of terminology while in her presence a number of times. Narcissa managed a rather tight lipped smile and a quick nod when he turned to address her.

"I was wondering if I may be of service to you. I've already loaded my belongings on the train, perhaps I could help you with yours?"

Druella beamed, clasping her hands together in front of her as if she could barely contain her excitement at the image of excessively blonde grandchildren that was no doubt running through her mind. Andromeda had to bump Narcissa with one of her bags as she swung it on her shoulder to elicit a response from her after a noticeable silence on her sister's behalf.

"Why thank you that would be lovely," Narcissa managed to reply in a breathy tone after the bag knocked her back into the conversation. She stepped back to allow him access to the cart. Druella and Narcissa exchanged a meaningful glance while he turned to address Andromeda with only a slight undertone of distaste, grabbing the handles of her cart and directing it toward the edge of the platform.

"If you'd like I can come back for yours as well."

"Thank you, Lucius, but I think I can manage fine by myself," Andromeda replied curtly. He shrugged before waiting for Narcissa to say her goodbyes to Mother and make her way down the platform at his side.

Andromeda was surprised she wasn't skipping. Perhaps that wasn't fair, but she would be lying if she didn't feel a little pang of jealousy as she watched the two of them disappear into the throng of family and students waiting to board. She risked a glance at her mother, who didn't have to say anything. Druella's expression said it all, but that never stopped her.

"Andromeda, I really think that if you would just think before you speak some times you would have so many more young men interested in helping you with your cart."

"Like I said, I can manage my cart just fine, Mum," Andromeda snapped, giving it a jerk toward the train with every intention of storming off to the prefect compartment to have a few words with Narcissa about throwing her under the train, figuratively speaking. Unfortunately she failed to glance at the oncoming traffic while doing so. She felt the impact of her cart colliding with another and the next thing she knew she was flat on her backside, which stung almost as bad as her pride in the moment.

Not a good start to the year at all, she thought, but at least her cart managed to remain upright where she did not.

A hand fell into her vision, and she lifted her gaze to meet the eyes of her fellow Slythern, Thomas Nott. He stood over her, amusement clear on his handsome features as he offered his assistance.

Andromeda flushed, her eyes briefly tracking down his robes and back again. Thomas' muscular frame was the result of years spent on the Qudditch pitch as well as many a night working his way into many a young woman's underthings, or so she had heard. At least his attraction she could understand. If she had to pick one word for Thomas Nott it would be disarming. He had a carefree demeanor and a brilliant smile, a nice contrast of a mop of dark hair and light blue eyes.

A pureblood from a fairly respectable family, Thomas Nott managed to balance that gentlemanly quality he had been raised to possess with a pension for being a bit on the wild side. Aside from his almost steady stream of "girlfriends," Thomas had been caught once or twice with providing some rambunctious nights in the boys' dormitory care of bottles of firewhiskey taken from his father's private stock.

"Alright down there, Black?" he asked with a laugh.

Andromeda felt the heat in her cheeks diminish as she took his hand and he pulled her up with rather minimal effort on his part. She took a moment to check behind her and dust off the back of her robes with her hand before turning to eye him warily.

"Thank you, my fault Thomas. I'm afraid I wasn't looking where I was going."

He shrugged, turning away from her for a moment to collect her cart and wheel it back, leaning his forearms against the handlebars as he regarded her curiously.

"Crowded platform, it's getting close to departure time. Everyone is in a rush and the prefect compartment is small. I don't want to get stuck next to some uppity fifth year so lets move it along, shall we? Why don't I just take control of the carts from here?"

Before Andromeda could protest he took hold of her cart with one hand and his own with the other and began pushing them both away, but not before flashing Druella a rather dazzling smile and polite wave. She didn't bother regarding her mother's reaction to that, but rather quickened her steps to catch up to his brisk pace.

"I'm sorry again for running into you, I didn't do any damage to your trunk, did I?" She ventured.

"This old thing has been through much worse than your inability to drive a cart. I'm sure you did more harm to your backside" he assured her with a laugh, grinning in her direction. "Where were you off to so fast anyway? In that much of a hurry to chaperone Narcissa and Lucius or was your mother worried that your lack of cart pushing offers put a damper on her efforts to marry you off?"

He had risked a glance at the glare on Andromeda's features before adding, "Sorry, I was close enough to overhear. Well, if anything you owe me now. I've reassured her that her middle child can still crash her way into a man's heart."

"Oh is that what I've done?" Andromeda questioned as they paused outside the prefect's compartment. She watched the muscles of his back move as he lifted the cart over the space between the platform and the train and maneuvered the wheels up the slight step with some latent degree of interest before adding carefully, "Just what is it that you think I owe you for that, then?"

Thomas turned back to face her and for a moment his expression was unreadable as if he was considering something against his better judgement, but she thought perhaps it was just her own paranoia because it was gone just as soon as she had noticed it. He offered his hand across the space between them to help her aboard.

"Step up, Andromeda. I'd hate to see you left behind."

As the train gave it's departing whistle and roared back to life she took his hand and jumped.


	3. Wires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Soundtrack: Wires - Athlete

**Crossfire: Chapter Three**  
_Thomas Nott_

The ride to the castle in the prefect's compartment of the Hogwarts Express provided a completely different experience than that of the average student. Most compartments were buzzing with conversation, full of friends that hadn’t seen each other all summer and had months worth of gossip to swap. Students bounced from compartment to compartment, hugging, shrieking, swapping stories and indulging in sugar highs care of the trolley that moved back and forth throughout the entire ride.

The prefects compartment only housed the twenty four prefects, head boy, and head girl and was for the most part sealed off from the bustle and clamor of the adjoining sections of the train. Halfway into the ride a majority of the prefects had been sufficiently reacquainted and were catching a nap, engaging in quiet conversation, or working on summer work they had waited till the last minute to complete. It was quiet enough that the methodical clicking of the train along the tracks and the sound of the rain that had begun to pour down outside, were audible in the compartment Thomas had picked for the ride.

Helping his charge with her cart had made it easy to seat himself in the vicinity of the Black sisters that year, and the majority of the fellow Slytherin prefects had taken their seats close by as well. Unfortunately, a lone badger had found himself quite comfortable in the den of snakes and his presence had put a hold on Thomas’ plans for the trip.

Across from him Andromeda sat crosslegged on the plush seat opposite Ted Tonks with neat rows of playing cards spread out in lines between them. Her teeth played across her lower lip as her hands worked furiously over the cards in front of her with a brow furrowed in concentration. Her brown eyes peeked up at Ted occasionally as she played or bumped his hand trying to discard before him. It was obvious to Thomas that Ted wasn’t working through his cards as fast as he could have, but was keeping the game close enough that Andromeda wouldn’t notice.

As the number of cards she held started to dwindle, Andromeda leaned further in and Ted playfully began to try to wrestle her free hand away away from the spread. She giggled and shoved at him until he released her and moments later her hand swung down and slapped an empty spot on the seat. Ted’s hand shot out to rest on top of hers and he threw his head back with a groan of defeat.

“Yes! The student becomes the teacher,” Andromeda exclaimed with her arms over her head in victory.

“Beginner’s luck, don’t get too confident now,” Ted chided as he began collecting all the cards into a pile. He loosened the knot of his black and yellow tie and rolled up his sleeves. “Because I’ve got you this time, Black. Rematch, c'mon.”

“Oh now don’t be sore that I have reflexes like a cat,” she teased as Ted dealt another hand.

“Ah, yes so quick and deadly,” Ted agreed. He began whipping the cards at her with force as she shrieked with laughter.

“If you wouldn’t mind keeping it down,” Narcissa snapped from the row of seats opposite them. She pointedly dropped the magazine she had been reading into her lap with annoyance. “Some of us are trying to read.”

Andromeda visibly bristled at the correction from her sister, turning back to face her before she answered coolly, “So sorry, Cissy. I’m sure what you’re reading about in Witch Weekly is very important. Would you care to join us? Ted is an excellent teacher, I’m sure you would catch on quickly.”

“Sure, it’s pretty easy,” Ted ventured with caution. He fixed Narcissa with his best attempt at a disarming smile, but that puppy dog look he wore for her sister was replaced with something a bit more forced.

Narcissa inspected Ted’s unkept hair and pilled sweater with blatant contempt before rounding her gaze back to her sister.

“No, thank you, but perhaps you’ll find your offer to be more appealing in the Hufflepuff section of the compartment,” she replied with a faux innocent ghost of a smile. She shared a pointed look with Andromeda’s fellow sixth year prefect Rabastan Lestrange beside her who had been stretched out on the seat with a book balanced on his chest. He rolled his eyes and sighed as he turned the page.

Thomas assumed Rabastan was familiar enough with the family to know it was in his best interest to avoid being drawn into the situation.

Ted Tonks wisely began to rise from his seat and take his cards with him but Andromeda placed a hand on his forearm before he could leave.

“I didn’t realize seating was separated by houses this year,” Andromeda mused loudly as she looked pointedly over to where Head Boy, Albert Runcorn had tucked himself away from the lot into the corner seat by the window with rolls of parchment scattered across the table in front of him. “Albert, this is news to me.”

Albert didn’t bother lifting his gaze off his work, his quill only paused momentarily upon being addressed.

“You know as well as I do that we have all been instructed to exemplify inter-house unity this year due to current events,” he replied shortly.

Thomas didn’t think he could have loaded any more distaste into the words "inter-house unity" if he tried.

Albert was a thin, unimpressive looking young man with tawny hair and dull brown eyes. However, one would be mistaken to take him on appearances alone. Albert was a rising man, and not just to his position in the castle. His father had worked in the Ministry for years and had been grooming his son for entry into public office almost since birth. Albert possessed a reserved cunning. Nothing was ever lost on him and just like the average politician he could be bought and sold if you knew what to bargain for.

More importantly, outside of his duties as Head Boy and alone with his compatriots in in dungeons, Runcorn had made it clear in conversations that he was at the very least sympathetic to the Dark Lord’s agenda.

Beside Thomas, his fellow seventh year prefect Isabella Greengrass gave a derisive snort.

“Perhaps some of us should make an effort to foster some loyalty to their own house before worrying about all that nonsense,” she muttered.

If Andromeda heard, she didn’t dignify Isabella with a response. She tugged the Hufflepuff’s sleeve and the pair of them wordlessly collected their belongings and moved to an empty row of seats on the opposite side of the compartment to continue their game in private.

Thomas eyed them both carefully as they left, his concentration broken by Isabella’s hand on his knee. She slinked closer to him as her well manicured nails drew slowly up his thigh. “Are you in the mood to find a quieter spot to get reacquainted in?” she purred, a wicked smile spreading across her face as she leaned into his ear. “You’ve been very elusive this summer, I’ve missed you.”

Isabella was a willowy blonde with coltish legs that always seemed too long for her skirts. She was tall, almost eye to eye with Thomas when they stood. She had a penchant for using beauty charms, he had learned, and without them she wasn’t nearly as alluring.

She had held his attention well enough through most of their sixth year which explained her familiar possessive behavior with him that day. He had left her owls to him unanswered as of late and paid her little attention on the train, hoping that she would get the message and leave him free to work on Andromeda, but he would evidently have to be more forward than that.

“No I’m good with all that,” Thomas replied, disinterested as he swatted her hand off his leg and stood. He didn’t bother to look back to see her reaction to his dismissal as he crossed the rows of seats to where Albert sat alone.

"Nott," Albert regarded him in his gravelly voice, again he didn’t bother to take his eyes off his work.

"Runcorn," he replied, just as noncommittal as he took a seat beside the other boy. "Is that the rounds schedule?”

Albert placed his quill on the table before him with a nod after giving his parchment one last look over, "It is, I think it’s pretty much set. I've been going through everyone's availability since I boarded trying to get a working schedule going," he nodded at the rolled up pile of parchment before him before adding, "Pain in the bloody arse this is.”

"When have you got me?" Thomas asked with a smirk before he added, "And who have you got me with?”

"You've got Tuesday nights all month", Albert answered after drawing a finger through his notes to find his name. "I put you with Isabella every week, you’re welcome. You'll probably have a fifth year following you for the first couple weeks so they can get a handle on things so try to keep it decent. But everyone will have to do their second set of rounds with someone outside their house so Thursdays you’re with Edgar Bones.”

Before Thomas could object Albert threw up his hand and added,

“It was between him or one of the Prewetts, so you got the better option.”

“Actually I was wondering if you could do me a favor and put Isabella on another night. Things have gotten a bit stale between us, but she isn't getting the message” Thomas ventured. He reached across the table and pulled the parchment toward him.

"May I?”

“I’m not rearranging the schedule to suit your sex life, Nott,” Albert huffed indignantly. He tried to slide the parchment back but Thomas held it firmly under his hand.

“Now lets see here...Thursday night Andromeda and the mudblood Tonks have rounds together. I would say he enjoys spending time with Slytherins, so what say you to scheduling Isabella with him on Tuesdays. I’ll take Andromeda on Thursdays.”

“Andromeda Black?” Albert regarded Thomas quizzically for a moment before a knowing smirk formed on his lips. “Worked your way through enough of the girl’s dormitories that blood traitors are all that’s left for you?”

"Watch it," Thomas warned darkly.

Albert didn't waver. His eyes met Thomas’ with only curiosity and minor amusement.

"What is all this about?”

Thomas leaned back in his seat and gave an innocent shrug of his shoulders, but his eyes stayed locked on Albert, challenging and intense.

“Look, Dumbledore was thrilled with Tonks and Black last year. He said they were model prefects and good examples for the houses. He’ll want them together again this year,” Albert whined. “And if I put her with you I’ll have to rearrange the whole blasted thing. Maybe Slughorn will invite her to the Slug Club and you can corner her there. She's good enough at Potions, I'm sure he noticed.”

Thomas gave the brightest smile he could as he drapped his arm across Albert’s shoulders and gave it him friendly shake before his thumb found the soft pressure point below the collar bone and dug in. He silenced any noise the other boy might have made by giving him a hard jerk in his direction, guiding his ear close enough so he could hear him whisper,

"As far as you or anyone else is concerned I want to shag the blood traitor, yeah? But since you're making this difficult for me I will inform you that this is much bigger than you think. Now if you help me with this little thing and all goes accordingly you will find yourself in the favor of some fairly influential people. People who would most certainly remember that you shut your hole and did as you were told...people I know I wouldn't want to be upset with me because I made a fuss about something as silly as switching a few names around on parchment. Now, do we have an understanding?"

Thomas could almost feel the rage rolling off of Albert in waves. He was most certainly not used to being told what he would and would not be doing and certainly not without explanation, but he slowly nodded his head and Thomas released his thumb from it's hold and patted his shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

"We do," Albert snarled, shifting over in his seat to put some space between them. "Now if you'll excuse me, I now have more work to do before we arrive.”

“Of course, I always could count on you, Albert.”

Thomas took his leave of him and found much to his delight that Isabella had excused herself from his bench and taken her belongings with her. He dropped back onto his seat and swung his legs up to stretch out lest she decided to return. He linked his hands behind his head with a satisfied smirk and closed his eyes but he could still hear the unrestrained raucous laughter of Andromeda Black from across the hall.


	4. Two Heads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter soundtrack: 2 Heads - Coleman Hell

**Crossfire: Chapter Four**  
_Andromeda Black_

After all the noise and bustle bouncing off the walls of the castle that night, the sound of her own footsteps echoing along the otherwise silent fifth floor of the Hospital Tower corridor seemed almost eerie.

The better part of Andromeda’s arrival at Hogwarts had been spent shuffling first years around, either off the trains, onto the boats and into the castle, or guiding them to their common rooms and dormitories following the sorting feast. Now that all were accounted for and settled into their new accommodations for the evening, she finally had a chance to visit her favorite room in the castle.

It was late enough now that all the students had retired either to their dormitories or to their common rooms to converse with their housemates and finish unpacking their trunks. The Slytherin common room wasn't quite as clamorous as it was directly following the ceremonies of the evening, but was still packed with enough students to make relaxation nearly impossible due to the only topic anyone seemed to be discussing that night: her cousin Sirius’ sorting.

Andromeda had thankfully been able to avoid most of the gossip during her prefect duties. She was sure Narcissa had to be beside herself having listened to it all night and wasn’t in the mood to deal with her neurosis so as soon as she could, she slipped away with her bathrobe thrown over her arm and set out for the prefect's bathroom.

"Evening friend," She whispered to the hulking statue of Boris the Bewildered. She gave him a pat on the hand as she passed. Four doors later she arrived at her destination and after a quick mumble of this term's password, pumpkin stems, she pushed open the door and was met with a wall of hot steam.

Andromeda was surprised to see that the multicolored water in the giant pool-like bath tub had already been running for quite some time, the deep basin was almost full to the top and the mountains of bubbles that rested along the surface of the water seemed undisturbed at first glance.

Without the sunshine streaming in through the stain glass windows the only light in the room came from the candles mounted on the surrounding walls. The flickers of light added a soothing touch when coupled with the sound of the rain being picked up by the harsh winds and hurled against the glass and stone.

She waited for the sounds of footsteps or chatter and thankfully heard none.

Satisfied, she gathered all her hair to the top of her head and secured it with a clip as she kicked her shoes aside and shrugged off her robe. She loosened her tie and lifted it over her head before adding it and her sweater swiftly to the pile on the floor in eager anticipation of stepping down into the hot soothing water.

She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the storm raging outside as her fingers nimbly worked their way down the line of buttons on her white blouse. She had began to shrug it off her shoulders and move closer to the water's edge when she was interrupted.

"I suppose now would be the proper time to inform you that you have company.”

Andromeda let out an undignified yelp of surprise as she tugged the sides of her shirt closer and whipped around.

Thomas Nott, who's form had until then been hidden behind a pile of foam was lounging at the far end of the tub, his arms spread out along the edge to keep him afloat. One hand lazily clutched a glass with a brown liquid she surmised to be firewhiskey after she caught sight of the bottle beside it.

His dark hair clung to the sides of his face, drawing her attention to his sharp jaw line and the droplets of water that slid from it. Her eyes followed them down to the musculature of his chest and arms, which hovered out of the water.

It took her a moment to shake herself, averting her gaze to her toes and hopping back a few feet. She replaced the gawking gaze that had no doubt been plain on her face in that moment with an admonishing one.

“Merlin, Thomas, you scared me half to death! Why didn't you say anything when you saw me come in?”

He gave a laugh and took a sip of his glass before he answered, "I figured you would spot me soon enough, and when you didn't I let you know before you got too…comfortable."

She felt the heat creep into her cheeks at his choice of words.

"Well I apologize for interrupting you and I'll leave you to your business," she replied curtly as she sunk down to collect her clothing off the floor.

"The bath is plenty big enough for the both of us and there's more than enough foam in here to keep our decency,” Thomas answered quickly, gesturing at the opposite end of the basin before adding with a cheeky grin, "I'll even turn my back while you get in. I swear.”

Andromeda had already been refastening the buttons and making her hasty retreat but she came to a halt, turning back around to him she raised a brow.

His eyes were on her, gauging her reaction to his suggestion.

"What if someone else comes in?” she asked.

"I can hold my breath.”

"You've been drinking.”

"You can join me.”

A frown pulled at her lips as she mulled that over.

"You know very well you could loose your badge for that.”

Thomas sunk a little further down into the water so only his head was visible bobbing along the surface but the threat of losing his prefect status didn't seem to vex him much at all.

"Well, you would be the only one who could make that happen, but I'm hoping that you'll just hop in here and share a glass with me rather than continue to be stuffy.”

"I am not stuffy," she huffed indignantly which drew a rather pointed look from her companion. She heaved a sigh and gave the door one last longing look before she narrowed her eyes at Thomas and muttered, "Oh all right, turn around.”

Just as he said he would Thomas turned his back to her, folding his arms along the edge of the bath and resting his head on them. As she dropped her pile of clothes back on the floor and continued undressing she could feel her heart pound in her chest and the blood rush in her ears.

Despite the innocent pretenses this was about the most risque situation she had ever put herself into and she began to wonder exactly why she was agreeing to it in the first place.

She tip toed over to the edge of the shallow end of the bath and slipped in. Instantly she gathered up a floating pile of foam and arranged it carefully to avoid any kind of accidental exposure.

"All right then?" Thomas called, still keeping his back to where she had come to rest. She peered across the basin, and hesitated for a moment as she drew in the defined musculature of his back and the way the water dripped down off his shoulders. He shifted for a moment, uncomfortable with the silence before asking again, “Andromeda?"

"Oh, um...right, yes I suppose it would be alright for you to turn around now.”

Thomas turned and settled back against the wall of the tub, eyeing her with a knowing grin before setting his head back and letting his eyes close with a relaxed sigh. He seemed comfortable enough with the intimacy of the situation, cool and collected.

"Relax," he muttered and he gave his nearly glass of firewhiskey a push. The glass slid quickly along the marble, seemingly floating on the water that had collected there before it came to a stop against Andromeda’s waiting hand. "Isn't that what you came here to do?”

She nodded tensely and offered him a strained smile as she lifted the glass and pressed it against her lips. She inhaled tentatively and had to subdue a cough in her chest as she jerked a bit in surprise at the fumes wafting off his liquor.

"Careful there, Black, it's strong," he warned but his tone betrayed his amusement.

Andromeda defiantly tipped the glass and her head back. The contents poured down the back of her throat, hardly running over her tongue. She swallowed hard and breathed out in an effort to lessen the burning that spread from her throat to her chest as the liquor slid down.

"It's awful," she hissed.

Across from her, a dark laugh sounded from Thomas' throat.

"Merlin, what do they teach you in that family of yours? I think every young lady should be able to drink whiskey properly," he teased.

Thomas gripped the bottle and gestured for her to watch him. He held the bottle out in front of him, swirling it gently with his wrist before tilting it back. He let the brown liquor coat the side of the bottle before he held it to his nose and breathed it in.

"If you don't try to suck it in through your nostrils you can tell it smells sweet." He gestured to his glass with his free hand and she slid it back to him and watched as he poured it with an expert hand and sent it back to her.

Andromeda eyed it uncertainly. The uncomfortable burn was still present in her chest and she cleared her throat to relieve in preparation for a second try.

Against her better judgement she copied his actions and let the thick liquor coat the edge of the glass as she tilted it and hesitantly breathed in. Amidst the overwhelming scent of the alcohol she picked up some familiar undertones.

"Cinnamon," she ventured, closing her eyes and inhaling again curiously. "Maybe some vanilla?”

"Maybe," Thomas answered with a shrug, as he watched her intently. He put his lips to the bottle and took a small sip before setting it back down. His tongue rolled it around his mouth experimentally before he swallowed and grinned at her.

"Why don't you try it again, but not like a barmaid polishing off a bottle this time.”

She followed his suggestion with much more pleasant results and Thomas seemed pleased enough with her reaction. Though Andromeda noticed that with the second sip her body felt as though it was flushing with heat and a heavy haze seemed to press in on her senses.

"There you are, I'm sure you'll impress just about any gentleman in your father's sitting room with that technique. Just don't tell him who taught you or I'm afraid he'll have my head.”

"Well thanks to you I'm sure I'll be a spectacle at the next Christmas party," She answered dryly before an undignified snort escaped her at the thought of leaning up against one of the black leather armchairs in the midsts of her father's conversation and downing one of their crystal glasses full of whiskey before offering her opinion on the issue of the day.

"Aren't you always?" Thomas replied quietly. His expression was unreadable, serious if anything.

"You've been quite the charmer today, Thomas. I'm sure Isabella wouldn't approve of such comments," she challenged.

The thought of the tall lithe Isabella Greengrass and her reaction were she to find out that Andromeda had spent the evening sharing a bath with Thomas Nott made her smirk.

Isabella certainly was no great fan of hers and had no problem making that as clear as day. It wasn't that she was openly hostile or spoke anything particularly hateful to her. For the most part she had a tendency to ignore Andromeda’s presence and when she did acknowledge her it was usually while she was peering down her nose with smug satisfaction that she had again convinced herself she was better than a Black sister. It wasn't much different than how she addressed anyone that possessed a lesser blood purity than her own.

But all that aside it was common knowledge she had done pretty much everything in her power to dig her claws firmly into Thomas and wasn't about to let him shake free, despite his reputation for his wandering eyes and varying interests.

"Doesn't really matter to me what she approves of or what she doesn't. That's not any of my concern," Thomas countered, looking as though he was curious as to why she would suggest otherwise. Andromeda must have looked unconvinced because he added, "Shall I ask you what that Muggleborn Hufflepuff boy would feel about you and I sharing a drink in the nude?"

Andromeda wasn't sure which aspect of that comment she should reply to first; the notion that Ted Tonks and herself had some sort of intimate relationship or the latter comments about their current situation so instead she sputtered indignantly while she took another sip of the whiskey and tried to gather a fitting response.

"That's not very proper talk, Thomas Nott," she replied in the most serious tone she could muster though it didn't sound very convincing in her own ears, especially with the hiccup that escaped directly afterward. In fact it drew a laugh from her companion that made her cheeks redden again.

"Hmmm, shall I apologize then?" he asked slyly as he slipped away from the edge of the tub and disappeared beneath the water.

Andromeda’s breath hitched in her throat. She sunk down in the bath and pressed her shoulders back against the side of the tub as her eyes scanned the foam filled water that had until that point been separating the two of them.

Perhaps it was the effects of the whiskey clouding her better judgement but she didn't jump from the bath and scramble away as she probably would have done with a clearer head. Instead, she just waited.

The top of Thomas' head emerged a few feet in front of where she had remained. His blue eyes scanned her expression and flashed with what she could tell was amusement, though nothing below his nose was visible beneath the water to confirm.

“What happened to keeping our decency?” Andromeda chided as she tilted her head up in the water.

“Don’t worry, princess, I didn’t peek,” he assured her with a cheeky grin. “Just retrieving my glass. I think that might have been enough for you.”

“Probably for the best,” Andromeda agreed. She followed his lazy movements as he swam closer.

One of his hands came to rest on the stone edge beside her head and his face was right there in front of her. The amusement that had just been there was gone, replaced with a lingering, hungry gaze. They were so close, almost touching.

He leaned in and Andromeda’s eyes closed, she parted her lips and waited expectantly for his own to brush across them. Something biting in the back of her head told her that she certainly was not acting like herself, that she was dangerously close to becoming one of the girls she watched Thomas take in and churn out and chastised in her own head. But the fluttering in her chest and the excitement of such a spur of the moment kind of decision was enough to push all of that back.

“We’ll just have to work on that tolerance of yours, love,” he breathed in her ear.

The splashing water brought her back to her senses as Thomas jumped out of the tub beside her. She almost turned, but remembered the state he was in and whipped her head back forward instantly.

“What…?” she sputtered as she listened to the sound of his heavy, wet footsteps trailing back toward the door.

“Enjoy the rest of your bath, Andromeda. I’ll be seeing you.”

The heavy entrance to the prefect bathroom slid closed and Andromeda sank beneath the water to silence her self deprecating groan.


	5. They

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Soundtrack: They - Jem

**Crossfire: Chapter Five**  
_Thomas Nott_

The clamor in the Great Hall that always accompanied dinner time was winding down to a dull roar as students finished up the remainder of their desserts and conversations and prepared to return to their common rooms. Beneath the high ceilings and floating candles the walkways between the tables were scattered with blue, yellow, and red uniforms milling about.

The houses were using this time to converge upon each other as they finished their meals and moved to the exit; Gryffindor boys slapped Hufflepuffs on their backs as they debated upcoming Quidditch matches, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw girls poured over the newest edition of Witch Weekly, expelling squeals at the latest headlines. It was easy to notice the lack of green in the mix. All of those uniforms had stayed congregated around their own table, comfortable in their own seclusion with one exception.

In the center of the Gryffindor table, a green trimmed hood stuck out like a sore thumb. Andromeda had spent the majority of her dinner beside a rather downtrodden, scrawny looking first year boy. Her arm rested firmly around his shoulders as she leaned in and talked quietly against his ear. Even if Thomas had managed to miss the sorting there was no way he could have missed all the talk in the Slytherin common room.

The boy was her younger cousin, Sirius. The only member of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black to not be sorted into Slytherin in its long and impressive history. Likewise there was no way he could have missed the Howler that arrived at breakfast for the boy, or the taunting that had ensued since.

He also noticed that he was not the only one watching the display of familial affection.

It only took a glance down his own table to note the hard stares directed at the pair. He was certain that Andromeda could feel the disapproving eyes boring holes into her back as if she had seen them but there was no change in her relaxed posture. She smoothed down the boy’s hair and adjusted his maroon and gold tie, her slender hand came to rest over the lion on the boy's chest. Whatever she had said to the first year seemed to change his mood dramatically. A thin smile had replaced the dejection that had been etched into his face all night.

"So...enjoying your assignment, I see.”

The intonation of the question pulled Thomas’ attention off of the Gryffindor table to Lucius Malfoy seated beside him. Lucius had evidently been following his gaze but that icy stare was on Thomas now, disapproval clear on his face. It was only then that Thomas realized a smile had crept onto his own face as well.

"I'm not sure I like that tone, friend," he replied cooly.

"I'm not sure I like that smile...friend," Lucius challenged, the corner of his lip twisted up into his trademark calculating sneer. "Forgive me, I wasn't aware that being forced to keep company with blood traitors would make you so happy.”

No sooner had the words left Lucius’ mouth that his mind flashed back to the prefect's bathroom of it's own accord, the scent of whiskey on Andromeda's hitched breath as she closed those wide eyes of hers and waited for him to touch her.

"The Dark Lord should thank Merlin he didn't consider you for this task, you couldn’t charm a giant with that smug face if yours,” Thomas snorted. He lowered his voice as his eyes shifted among his housemates to ensure they were all busy with their own conversations. "It's a delicate situation. I can't just throw her over my shoulder and drag her off to the next meeting in a bag. But besides that, just because I have a job to do doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun as well.”

"And how is that coming along for you?” Lucius huffed.

“Well..,” Thomas trailed off. He wasn't about to delve into the details of the last time they had been in each other's presence, seeing as how any time Andromeda had caught sight of him since that night she had a tendency to careen into the opposite direction he was heading.

Lucius seemed about to press him further, but any wittiness on his part was delayed as a flash of blond hair and sleek black robes bustled past him down the aisle. Narcissa Black's purposeful footsteps clicked with her annoyance as she made a beeline for where Andromeda was seated, but she was not alone. Evan Rosier, her eldest cousin in the castle was at her side as she directed him to the Gryffindor table.

"What is this, now?" Thomas murmured as Lucius craned his neck to follow her path.

The youngest sister's eyes kept darting back to her own table as she shuffled up to Andromeda and Sirius, aware that the hasty departure drew even more attention to them. It appeared as though she had grown tired of listening to her housemates' comments on Andromeda's dining arrangements and was going to put a stop to it.

Part of Thomas had to wonder if that was more to save her sister's face or her own. Judging from the worried wrinkle in her forehead and her reddened cheeks as Evan released her arm and slipped it through Andromeda’s to tug her firmly from her seat, it was the latter.

Evan was a formidable looking seventh year. He possessed that same sharp jaw line and high cheek bones that framed the typical patrician good looks of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He was tall and broad shouldered with a confident gait developed from years of social training and a successful run as the Slytherin Quidditch team's keeper. The serious and quiet Evan took responsibility for Narcissa and Andromeda while they were in the castle. Whether it was a duty he adopted as their eldest male relative or one that was forced upon him by his mother and aunt, Thomas did not know, though he assumed he didn’t volunteer for it.

Andromeda didn't put up much of a fight as Evan walked her out of the dining hall with Narcissa trailing a few feet behind, eyes on her shoes. He had obviously intended to make it appear as if he was doing nothing more than escorting her back to her common room but it was hard to miss the annoyance etched on his face as Andromeda was rushed out beside him with a hand circled firmly around her arm.

"Finally," Lucius breathed with a smirk, wiping his lips carefully with his napkin before pushing away his plate of dessert with a sigh and standing. "It's a shame really, that family has to endure such public embarrassment because of that girl.”

"I'm sure they'll survive," Thomas replied absently as her stepped out of his own seat, brushing away the stray crumbs that found their way into the folds of his robes. "Care to join the hunt? I need to break her off from the pack but I’ll doubt I’ll have to twist your arm to distract the sister.”

Lucius snickered and motioned for him to lead the way as they took their leave from the hall on the heels of Narcissa. In the dim light of the corridor outside, they lingered out of sight.

Once free from the eyes of the students in the hall, Evan dropped the rouse of dutiful escort and practically dragged Andromeda across the empty corridor to a private spot under the stairwell.

“Evan, I don’t think this is the place to...," Narcissa pleaded in a mousey voice as she quickened her steps to catch up to the pair but he silenced any further protests with his hand and she promptly closed her mouth.

Andromeda on the other hand remained silent, even after Evan swung her against the cold stone and trapped her there, one hand on either side of her head, his back to Lucius and Thomas. Her eyes closed quickly as she absorbed the impact but flashed open a moment later to stare up at him in defiance.

"This is not necessary Evan," she murmured.

"You need to think before you do these things," he hissed in response, leaning his head down so that they could be eye to eye. "These are dangerous times and you of all people don't need to be calling attention to yourself.”

"I seriously doubt that sharing a dinner with my own cousin would elicit some ill will against me," she snapped, her arms lifted to push against his chest in an effort to put some distance between the two of them, but he didn’t budge.

"You weren't sitting at our table, Andi," Narcissa interjected as she took a step closer, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. "You didn't hear what people say about you.”

Andromeda sighed, her eyes rolling up in exhasperation. It was apparent that this wasn't the first time she had been subjected to such a lecture.

"Cissy, I don't care what any of them have to say.”

"Well you should," Evan snapped. "You think that you can say and do whatever you want with no repercussions because of your last name? Well let me assure you right now that they don't see much difference between a mudblood and a blood traitor and the Black name isn't going to keep you safe if you can't learn to keep your misguided opinions to yourself.”

"What is that supposed to mean?" Andromeda challenged, throwing her shoulders back proudly despite the slight edge of fear that crept into her voice. "Keep me safe from what?”

Evan finally removed his hands from the wall, stepping back from her as he shook his head.

"What do you think, Andi?" he replied, his voice low. "I've heard your name come up more than once in reference to that letter that got posted all over. I don't even want to know if you were involved. I'm not trying to give you a hard time, I'm just trying to keep you safe. You think that nothing can touch you but you're wrong. The company you keep, the statement that you just made by sitting at that table...lines are being drawn, and you don't want to be on the wrong side of them. Not now.”

Lucius pointedly bumped Thomas with his shoulder at the mention of the letters. He didn’t need Evan shutting Andromeda down with his talk of impending doom before he even got a chance to learn anything from her.

Thomas cleared his throat to announce himself as he stepped out of the shadows, his head turned to Lucius beside him. He kept his pace slow, his hands leisurely clasped behind his back as though the two of them had just finished their dinner and were emerging from the Great Hall.

"Nott, Malfoy," Evan greeted, having spun on his heel at the sound of their approach.

"Ah, Evan! How was your dinner? Hope you ate well, we have practice tomorrow morning," Thomas greeted, striding forward to clap him on the shoulder warmly. "I wouldn't want to have to embarrass you on the first day by sneaking too many by you.”

"Not likely," Evan retorted, offering Lucius an acknowledging nod. "I actually just finished, I was just discussing some family matters before heading out to the pitch for a little warm up if you'd like to join me.”

"Normally I wouldn't pass up an opportunity to shame you, but I'm afraid I have a prior engagement with your cousin. Perhaps Lucius might take you up on your offer though. He's likely a bit rusty as well," Thomas replied with a cheeky grin, gesturing to Andromeda who had stepped out from behind the staircase to stand beside her sister.

Andromeda's brow arched in response. She folded her arms in front of her chest and rounded on him.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Thomas," she answered curtly. "I have prefect rounds tonight."

Thomas would have had to have been born without hearing to miss the coldness in her voice.

"Well that's why I found you, of course. We've been scheduled together for Thursdays now," A slow smile stretched across Thomas’ lips before he added, "I would have thought that you've seen the revised schedule, it's been posted in the prefect bathroom for some time now.”

Andromeda's cheeks blushed instantly.

Thomas watched Lucius' eyes pass between the two of them knowingly as he clapped his hands to redirect the conversation before realization dawned on Evan as well.

"Well, lucky for me, I have no plans this evening, and if it's alright with you, Evan, I'd like to extend an invitation to Narcissa to come along with us. It's a lovely night and I'm sure she could provide some assistance while we practice.”

Narcissa almost jumped at the sound of her name on his lips and didn't even wait for Evan to answer before she exclaimed, "I'd love to! Excuse me, I'll be right back with my cloak," and turned on her heel to rush toward the dungeons.

"Well, I suppose we should start on our rounds," Andromeda recovered in her sister's wake. She narrowed her eyes at Thomas and took a few backward steps to excuse herself from the group before turning to head down the hall. "Good luck with your practice, boys. Let's get to it Thomas, we have a long night ahead of us."


	6. Everybody Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter soundtrack: Everybody Talks - Neon Trees

**Crossfire: Chapter Six**  
_Andromeda Black_

Since Andromeda had left her family outside of the Great Hall and began rounds with her new partner she kept her eyes forward, her pace brisk, and had contributed scarcely a word to the conversation Thomas seemed stubbornly intent on starting with her.

For the first time since becoming a prefect, she understood why the others complained about patrols to no end. For the entirety of her fifth year, she and Ted Tonks had been paired up for rounds, and thanks in large part to his infectious sunny disposition, she had found herself actually looking forward to her duties.

Now in place of easy conversation, the silence was only punctuated by the hurried clacking of their footsteps, amplified by the cold stone walls.

Andromeda had skillfully avoided Thomas for days and hadn’t mentioned their chance meeting to a soul. Any time her thoughts drifted back to the prefect bathroom she would wince. How horrifyingly embarrassing her behavior was. How naive to put herself in that situation in the first place and how pliant she could become with some liquor on her tongue. It was as if her mother’s constant reproaches played on a loop in her head every time she recalled the evening in that blasted tub.

"Lovely night…,” Thomas mused.

"Quite lovely,” she agreed shortly.

"You know, we've almost finished our rounds ahead of schedule,” he added.

Andromeda risked a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He had kept pace with her as she moved hastily along the dimly lit corridors. He was at her side, as he had been since they had begun their rounds.

"I'm aware.”

"There's really not much going on in the castle tonight, is there?" he proceeded conversationally. An obstinate smile clung to his face despite her standoffishness.

"No, no there's not.”

It had been woefully uneventful. Where were these first years’ sense of adventure? Not a one out of bed after curfew? Just the two of them and the endless empty corridors and staircases.

Thomas' hand shot out and took hold of her shoulder. His grip wasn't tight but it stopped her in her tracks and turned her toward him all the same. For the first time since they had started on their way Andromeda focused on him.

His eyes betrayed his discomfort with the situation, the usual careless mischief in them gone. He was close enough that she could clearly smell that same cinnamon she inhaled from the fumes of the firewhiskey drifting off his uniform. Perhaps he kept his bottles in the same trunk as his robes. Or perhaps her mind was slipping back to the bathroom of its own accord. His proximity and his gaze above her with that smell in her nose made the heat creep back into her cheeks, though this time it had nothing to do with whiskey and everything to do with embarrassment.

"Then would you kindly stop sprinting about like you have somewhere else to be?” he retorted.

"I would think you'd like to get this over with quickly as well," Andromeda huffed as she shifted her shoulder out from under his hand.

"Now what would make you think that?" Thomas asked with a laugh. "I've been trying to get a moment alone with you since the first night we got here and now I have you all to myself again. I wouldn't take that for granted. I had no idea you could be so elusive.”

"Not funny," she chided.

Thomas caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. His face was steely, as though he was trying to consider which emotion he wanted to convey and was holding them all back until he decided on a fitting one.

"I apologize for my actions in the bathroom. It wasn't right for me to have put you in that kind of a situation. A lack of judgement on my part that I'll attribute to my drink of choice that evening," he conveyed earnestly, "Not that it’s any excuse, but all the same, I'm sorry.”

"Why did you leave?”

The words escaped her mouth so suddenly that even she blinked in surprise at her own boldness. It certainly took Thomas aback as a startled expression replaced that guarded visage he had adopted.

He released her chin and took a step back, his expression puzzled, “Sorry?"

"For Merlin's sake, please don't read too far into this, but I'd like to know why you left, please," Andromeda pressed, crossing her arms across her chest as she asked again.

Thomas let out a laugh and passed a hand through his dark hair thoughtfully. The movement made him appear almost sheepishly boyish, something Andromeda found to be quite ironic given the circumstances. Her question had caught him off guard and he had no idea how to respond. That was evidently not the direction he had thought the conversation was going to go.

"I thought you wouldn't have been so complacent if I hadn't had gotten you to drink in the first place," he answered with a shrug. "I suppose I didn't want to take advantage of your state.”

"Why do I have a hard time believing that?" she asked as she turned on her heel and picked up their rounds again, this time with a more leisurely stroll as they headed back toward the dungeons. Thomas glided up beside her and mimicked her posture with his hands clasped behind his back as he walked, their footsteps clicking in time.

"If I had to guess it would be because you've heard some vicious rumors about my character and have come to your own conclusions without trying to learn the facts for yourself," he replied with a devilish grin on his lips.

"I hardly think you've even convinced yourself of that," Andromeda replied with a smirk of her own. "Thomas Nott, I'm afraid your reputation precedes you.”

“If we are making assumptions then maybe I haven't heard any such gossip about you and came to the conclusion that it would be smart to quit while I was ahead. You are a Black, if I wanted your attention I would have to go about it the proper way, yes?”

Before she could protest, his hand wrapped around hers and tugged her around to face him. He dipped into an elaborate bow, knee bent, arm sweeping out. His lips parted and their sensitive skin brushed across her knuckles so lightly it sent a chill straight through her that silenced any objection that had been on her tongue.

Andromeda froze. It wasn't the first time she had been subjected to such a dated and purposeless custom. Her reaction had always been to smile politely and tug her hand away as soon as the opportunity presented itself. It had never caused the flush of warmth, or the fluttering pressure to grow in her stomach as it was from being handled so by him.

“My poor Mum, she spent so much time teaching me the proper shite and I never do any of it. But maybe I should start, it seems to be working just fine on you,” he spoke quietly against her skin as he straightened himself back up, the devious look in his eyes at odds with his polished display. "I take it your Hufflepuff boy never thought to tried that…”

"Your assumptions about me are off as well I see. I’ve been on the receiving end of enough polished shite in my life that it's lost it's shine, I'm afraid," Andromeda replied, pointedly ignoring the dig about Ted as she pulled her hand from his grasp. "You're confusing me with my sisters."

"Oh really," Thomas edged closer. "Why would you say that?”

"You know as well as I do how they love to feel elevated," Andromeda smirked. "So they appreciate all that custom and deference.”

"Not you though.”

"No, not me.”

“What would you have me do then?” he urged. His head was cocked to the side playfully, his youthful confidence and eagerness worn in his posture.

Andromeda reached forward and took his right hand into her own as she pressed her back against the stone wall, tugging his arm so that he would close the distance between them. Her free hand found his opposite wrist and lifted it so that his left hand came to rest against the wall beside her head. The arrangement made his body lean forward into hers. His open robe fell around them, shielding them in the shadow of the flickering torches on the wall.

“What I would have you do is…,” she trailed off as her lip grazed along his jaw to his ear, earning her a noise of approval from him.

“Tell me,” he breathed.

“Stop drinking whiskey in the prefect bathroom before we loose all our house points,” she whispered breathily in his ear. Her head fell against the wall so she could watch his response with a coquettish grin.

He stepped back and regarded her for a moment, obviously flustered before realization dawned on his face. The corners of his mouth twitched like he was holding back his amusement.

“Is this my comeuppance for leaving you in the bath?”

“A taste of your own medicine,” Andromeda answered innocently. “That’s all.”

“Is that all? Because, you know…,” Thomas trailed off, eyeing her carefully for a moment as he chose his words. “It seems to me like you were a little disappointed.”

“Excuse me, come again?” Andromeda huffed, but her tone sounded a bit too defensive even to her own ears.

“You were expecting something more, and you’re used to getting exactly what you want, aren’t you?” he answered with a wicked smile.

“You have quite the opinion of yourself, I’ll give you that much,” she replied cooly but his words had hit their mark and he knew it.

His hand reached out and rested below her ear with his fingers tangling through her hair, his thumb firm on the line of her jaw, and pulled her closer until there was no space left between them.

“I just would hate to leave you wanting more, Andromeda,” he murmured.

He tilted her head up and pressed his lips to hers but not with the fervor that she was expecting, maybe even fearing from him. He caught her lower lip between his with no more pressure than when his lips brushed her knuckles, unpretentious and reserved, barely there. His eyes never closed, or wavered from hers, everything about him was deliberate and controlled.

Andromeda had tried her best to appear indifferent but her body was teetering between holding tension and relaxing into him. The inhale she drew was sharp and audible as though he had knocked all the wind from her lungs. She opened her mouth to reply but the flickering of the torches down the hall alerted her that they were not alone.

Thomas took a step back in surprise, smoothing down his robe as he too turned toward the noise.

“Oh don’t stop on my account," crooned Isabella Greengrass as her slim figure slipped out out from the stairwell to the common room. She crossed her arms across her chest as she approached, making no effort to conceal the wand in her hand. Her mouth was set in a thin line, eyes hard and peering straight past Thomas to Andromeda. "Very brave of you to carry on right outside the common room though.”

It was obvious she had been crying. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red and she spoke as though she was choking back a sob. Andromeda had heard the rumors that she and Thomas had been on the outs since the return to Hogwarts and that she wasn't exactly taking it well.

"Isabella," Thomas greeted sternly as he moved to keep himself between the two of them. "Is this really necessary?”

"Oh I don't know, Thomas, you tell me," Isabella replied as she rounded him. "You said you need time for your studies and space for yourself this term but this doesn't look like either to me. This looks like you've been having your way with the blood traitor here behind my back. I think I'm handling this quite well since I haven’t painted the walls with her yet.”

Andromeda’s hand dipped into the folds of her robes to grip the handle of her own wand as she stepped off the wall, “Easier said than done, I assure you, Isabella,” she warned as she moved around Thomas to keep the other girl facing her.

“Ladies…,” Thomas attempted to intervene but Isabella promptly cut him off with a disinterested wave.

“Shut it Black, You aren't Bellatrix, you don’t intimidate anyone," she hissed.

"I might not be my sister but I know my way around a duel just as well," Andromeda replied, her tone even. “But I understand your pride is hurt so I’ll look past you threatening me tonight.”

Isabella threw back her head in a laugh, “What are you doing anyway, trying to get some of that mud wallowing dirt off your name? Here you are throwing yourself at the only pureblood in the school that would even consider looking your way. Well you made a good choice because now I know he really will have anyone.”

The anger at her accusations surged through Andromeda like a wave. Her eyes strayed to Thomas who still kept himself between the two of them, one hand raised slightly in each of their directions in an attempt to keep the argument from escalating.

“Why don’t you go back to the dorms before you embarrass yourself further,” Andromeda snapped. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else to tumble into bed with and lick those wounds..”

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” Isabella snarled as she whipped her wand over her head with a curse ready on her lips.

Andromeda steadied herself and dropped into a crouch with her own wand out out in front of her in a defensive stance, waiting. The attack never came however.

Isabella's eyes left hers, focusing on something over Andromeda’s shoulder that made her pause, take a deep breath in and lower her wand. It wasn't until she saw Thomas relax his posture that she risked a glance over her shoulder.

Lucius Malfoy stood shoulder to shoulder with Evan, Narcissa peering nervously out from behind the pair of them. They were both in their practice robes, smudged with dirt and grass, carting their brooms over their shoulders. Apparently Isabella had weighed her odds of getting a good hex in and disappearing back to the common room swayed in Andromeda’s favor with the new arrivals.

"Now what have we missed here this evening?" Lucius pondered with a smirk as he and Evan walked closer to take Thomas' side between them.

"I'm not sure but it looks to me like you were just leaving," Evan answered as he came to stand in front of Isabella, his broad shoulders looming over her frame, dwarfing her. “Run along now.”

Isabella's gaze flicked between Andromeda and Evan, positively seething with anger. Her jaw clenched and she slipped her wand back in her robes before stalking back down the stair well and around the corner to the common room entrance. The echo of the door slamming against the frame let them know that they were alone. For a moment nobody spoke as the newcomers put the pieces of what they had walked in on.

"What are you all still doing out? Have you been on the pitch all night?” Thomas asked, an obvious sorry attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"No we took a trip to the kitchens after the pitch,” Lucius replied.

“We figured we would run into you on your rounds and invite you to join, but clearly you were…occupied," Evan interjected, eyeing Thomas pointedly.

Narcissa, bless her, broke the tension with a smile, sauntering past them with a giddy bounce to her step before gripping Andromeda’s arm eagerly.

“I wish you had seen, Andi. Lucius convinced me to take a ride on his broom with him. Properly too, with one leg on each side. Can you believe it?”

“How scandalous, Cissy, what would mother say?,” Andromeda teased. She had to laugh, she was caught copping off with Thomas and almost had a dust up in the hallway as a direct result, but her sister was worried about Mother finding out about a ride on a broom.

“Oh you mustn’t tell her, either of you,” Narcissa pleaded, glancing between Andromeda and Evan. “You know she finds it indecent. But it was just this once, and it was exhilarating!”

“You were a natural,” Lucius confirmed. Andromeda couldn’t help but notice a softer expression had replaced the dour sneer that she was accustomed to seeing stuck on his face.

Narcissa beamed at the praise before she collected herself, “Well...I know that I'm exhausted and you boys have a game to rest up for, so if you’ll excuse us, my sister and I should be off to bed.”

“I think that would be best, I’ll walk you,” Evan insisted. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders before fixing Thomas with a glare and adding. “I’ll see you back in the dorm.”

The tone clearly indicated that he would have some explaining to do but Thomas appeared nonplussed as they passed.

“Good night, Andromeda,” he murmured affectionately as she passed him, drawing out the syllables of her name as if he was savoring the sound of them. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	7. This is War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Soundtrack: This is War - Thirty Seconds to Mars

**Crossfire: Chapter Seven**  
_Thomas Nott_

"Thomas...Thomas, wake up! We have a problem.”

It had been a very long night. Prefect shifts were always long, but add on the surprise attack from his disgruntled ex, a long winded explanation to Evan Rosier as to why the the incident had begun in the first place, and a bit of speedy disaster control, he swore the sun was starting to peek through the stained glass before he managed to shut the curtains of his bed with the certainty that Evan wouldn't smother him with his own pillow as he slept. Not that Evan wasn't upset, just thankfully not upset enough to cause any permanent physical damage.

Now Lucius was shaking him out of the short, blissful sleep he had managed to fall into and yelling in his ear.

"Get...off...," he mumbled incoherently as he took a blind swing of his fist and pushed his head further into the pillow. Lucius was more awake than he was. He managed to catch that fist and pull Thomas into a sitting position.

"Seriously, mate, you're going to want to see this.”

Thomas rubbed the sleep from his eyes and blinked enough to focus on his compatriot beside his bed. Lucius’ lips were pressed into a thin, serious line and he gestured with a tilt of his head for Thomas to follow him into the common room.

He let out a frustrated sigh but complied anyway, grabbing his dressing robe off of the bedpost and tip toeing out of the dormitory. He let the door click closed behind him with a grumble while he secured the tie around his waist.

The common room was empty, thankfully. Most students had already made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast or had decided to skip the first meal of the day for some much needed sleep, as Thomas had planned to do before the interruption.

"Come now, let's have it…and this had better be important. We have a game today, I've had no sleep, and I feel like shite. What is it?”

Lucius directed him to the large board that sat on the far wall of the common room. It was intended for students to post notes about various events at the school, ask for or offer tutoring services, post about a lost pet, and the like. But today a fresh parchment was hung in the center of it. Thomas recognized the tidy handwriting instantly and felt his heart jump into his throat.

_My brothers and sisters,_

_I want you all to take a moment today to ask yourselves a very simple question._

_If not me, then who?_

_If I turn a blind eye to the prejudice and hatred that has infected this world for too long, then who will notice? If I pretend I don't hear all the "mudblood" and "half breed" slurs that are uttered by those around me, who will say that it is not acceptable talk? If I don't take a stand against all the violence and murder carried out in the name of pureblood society, who will make these atrocities stop?  
Every time we turn a blind eye to these things we have given our consent for them to continue. It is our silent acceptance that has set the stage for the horrors we are experiencing today. By not doing anything to change this notion of pureblood supremacy we have encouraged our neighbors to act on their dangerous ideas and fueled them with the belief that they are right._

_Don't stand by and let the few speak for the many. Don't condone the torture and slaughter of innocent witches and wizards with your silence. I'm not asking you to raise your wands against your neighbors, simply to speak out against these tragedies. Change the consciousness of our society. Let's not be stunned and frightened into silence. Because if you don't, who will?_

"They're all over the castle," Lucius hissed, tearing the parchment from the board and crumpling it between his hands. "I'm willing to bet they found their way into all the common rooms as well, and that's not the worst of it. Somehow they managed to get them out of the castle too, the Prophet even ran a story about it.”

“Damn it," Thomas muttered as he pressed his fingers to his temples and squeezed his eyes closed to ward off the headache he was sure was on the way. He dreaded the arrival of the mail at breakfast. He was sure to have a parcel addressed to him from his father regarding the matter. Or worse, correspondence from the Dark Lord, himself. He felt a chill creep beneath his skin at the thought. "He won't be happy when he sees this.”

"Do you think it's Andromeda?" Lucius asked. His careful tone pricked Thomas’ anger. He too had been present for the explanation of the events that had transpired the night before and he had already voiced his opinion that he thought Thomas was enjoying his task just a little too much. His friend’s suspicion was the last thing he needed.

"Very likely," Thomas replied as nonchalantly as he could. "If she didn't write it then I'm sure she's at the very least involved in distributing it. I can't think of anyone else who would have the audacity to want to post that in our common room.”

"Well, you two are getting nice and close, now aren't you? I'm sure you'll be able to find out for sure soon enough and this whole facade of yours can be over," Lucius replied. He meant it to sound encouraging.

A little too forced for Thomas’ ears though. He made a noncommittal noise in response.

“That’s all that was last night, right?" he pressed. Dear old Lucius never did know how to quit when he was ahead.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Thomas snapped as he stepped toe to toe with his friend and snatched the parchment from his hand. "I believe that we already went through this, so if you have something to say then I suggest you come right out and say it because last I checked you're supposed to be helping me, not doubting me at every turn.”

"Sorry, mate," Lucius replied cooly, despite the noticeable narrowing of his eyes at Thomas’ challenge. "I just wanted to be sure. I'd hate to see you wind up dead because you became distracted.”

“That won't be a problem,” Thomas assured him as he tossed the crumpled parchment into the burning embers of the fire set the night before and gave it a prod with the poker to encourage the dying flames to engulf it faster.

He hoped his tone was convincing enough because in truth he wasn't quite as focused as he wished to appear. A good deal of his anger at the insinuation was due to the fact that he had somehow given Lucius reason to doubt him.

“So what are you going to do?” his friend asked as he sunk into the green overstuffed armchair in front of the fireplace.

“If I ask her about the letters now it’s just going to make her suspicious. I can’t give her a reason to doubt me or I won’t learn a thing. If she clams up it’s over,” Thomas reasoned.

"I'll see if Narcissa says anything about it if you'd like. Perhaps Andromeda confided in her about her intentions. It seems unlikely that she wouldn't let her own sister know if she was trying to accomplish something that big, even if they don't exactly see eye to eye on the topic," Lucius offered.

“That’s fine, just don't say anything to Macnair if he asks. He's more suited for brute force than anything that requires any kind of subtlety or discretion. I'd rather have you on my side for that," Thomas confided and gave Lucius an amiable clap on the shoulder. “I'm going to go get dressed."

"I think I'll head to the hall and grab some food before class," Lucius replied, returning the gesture before crossing the room to the entrance. "You should as well, you've got to be on your game today. The Gryffindors have got a good team this year."

"Yes, Mother.”

Lucius snickered at the snide response before Thomas heard the door push against the stone floor and the burst of cold from the dungeon corridors rushed in.

"And make sure you put on a clean pair of-"

“Oof!"

His motherly advice was cut off by the very distinct sound of two bodies colliding followed by books, rolls of parchment, and other such personal belongings scattering across the floor from the impact. Thomas turned to find Lucius had maintained his gravity, but a small framed, dark haired girl in expensive robes was at his feet.

"Andromeda," Lucius greeted her coldly, stepping over her as she made an effort to collect herself off the floor with a look of distaste. "Forgive me, you caught me off guard. I tried to catch you, but I’m afraid my reflexes are off today.”

"Well that's a shame, I hope you manage to get them back in order before the game, Lucius," she spat as she pulled herself up, cradling her side as she fixed him with a glare.

"My apologies," he gave a nod of mock respect in her direction before continuing on his way down the hall but not before catching Thomas’ gaze with a satisfied smirk.

Thomas felt his jaw clench.

“Go on then you bloody arrogant wanker,” she sighed as she dusted off her robes and began shoving her books and quills back into her bag heatedly. “Don’t know what Cissy sees in your smug, blond ar-”

"Let me help you with that," Thomas nudged one of the stray parchment rolls under the chair before he announced himself and made his way over to where she stood, stooping to pick up her effects that had rolled away in the wake of her fall. She jumped at his voice, wide brown eyes snapping up to see who had witnessed her cursing, but relaxed when her gaze met his.

"At least someone is a gentleman," she answered quietly as she lifted her bag off the floor and held it out to him so he could return her things. She offered a smile as she watched him retrieve the last of her parchment rolls in his arms and deposit them safely back where they had been. “Thank you…You know, that's the second time you've been here to help me off the ground. Were you sent to watch over me?”

Guilt was something Thomas hadn't really felt before in his life. He had done a lot of things he probably shouldn't have been proud of, hurt a lot of people, emotionally, physically, purposely. But an off handed comment by the blood traitor Black sister made it roll through him in an unexpected wave. He braced himself against it and willed an easy smile onto his lips.

“Something like that,” he said offhandedly. His hand reached out to smooth down a strand of her brown hair that had been jostled free of it's loose bun in the impact. She made no move to stop the familiar gesture. “Are you alright?”

"I'll make it. I've got to be going though, I have a Potions report due and nowhere near enough time to get it done if I want to make it to see you play today," she apologized as she bustled past him toward the girls' dormitory, her robe billowing out behind her as she moved.

"Would you like to meet up with me afterward?” Thomas called after her hopefully as he watched her poof of dark hair bounce with her quick steps.

“Haven’t you found yourself in enough trouble with me?” she asked over her shoulder with a dry laugh.

“Not nearly enough,” he answered earnestly.

She stopped and turned around to face him with a sheepish look.

“I hope Evan didn’t give you a hard time when you got back to your rooms last night. He means well, but he can be a bit…”

“Prickish?” Thomas offered.

“Overbearing,” she corrected with narrowed eyes. “I told him you did nothing wrong, but he didn’t seem very interested in my rendition of events.”

“I can handle your cousin,” Thomas assured her. “And I apologize about Isabella’s behavior, I will speak to her today and make sure that never happens again.”

“I would prefer you didn’t speak to her at all,” she replied candidly.

Thomas raised a brow at the possessiveness of her words and waited for her to correct herself or apologize for the assertiveness in her tone but she did neither. Her expression told him she meant every word exactly how he interpreted it and it gave him a little thrill.

“As you wish,” he consented with a knowing grin. “I’ll see you after the game, then?”

She swayed for a moment, hesitating as she looked him up and down. He watched her eyes follow the V of his bathrobe and linger on the skin exposed there.

“Where do you want to meet me this time, the Astronomy Tower?” she asked with mock curiosity.

“Presumptuous. I was thinking here in the common room for the victory party, but if you have other ideas I am always open to suggestions.”

“The only place you’ll be seeing me tonight will be detention if I don’t get back to work,” she warned him. She adjusted her bag over her shoulder pointedly but fixed him with a coy smile as she left and added. “Good luck today Thomas, I’m sure you’ll give us all something to celebrate.”

Thomas watched her retreat to the dormitories before he hastily returned to the chair he had stashed her parchment roll under and knelt down to retrieve it. He turned it over in his hands, fingers lingering on the twine that held the scroll together for a moment, unsure if he even wanted to open it, almost certain of what he would find. Finally he gave the ends of the neat bow a firm tug and the parchment unrolled in his hands.

It was a map of the night sky, obviously an unfinished star chart from her Astronomy lecture. Small dots littered the pages, some connected by precise lines she had drawn to form the constellations she was mapping. His eyes were drawn to one in particular. The chained princess from Greek legend, sacrificed by her family to the jaws of a monster. Beside it in the same elaborate scrawl Thomas recognized from the letters, she had written her name.

_Andromeda_


	8. Sweetest Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Soundtrack: Sweetest Thing - U2

**Crossfire: Chapter Eight**  
_Andromeda Black_

The Slytherin common room was filled to capacity that evening with nearly every one of her housemates in attendance as they waited for their Quidditch team's triumphant return to the dungeons. Many hadn't even bothered to deposit their cloaks to their dormitories and the most intense fans still donned the green and white paint they had decorated their faces with in honor of the commencement of the Quidditch season. Even Narcissa didn’t fuss when her dorm mate offered the pair of them tiny green snake tattoos, which she and her sister still wore proudly on their cheeks.

The celebratory singing and shouting had echoed throughout the castle and hadn't quieted down yet, with good reason. It had been a long and well played game against their rivals in Gryffindor and for the first time in two years Slytherin had finally beat them in the first game of the year.

Lucius Malfoy had managed to catch the snitch in the fourth hour of the game with what even Andromeda had to admit was a fairly impressive dive off of his broomstick to the ground below. Unfortunately, Thomas, who had been flying behind him, caught the bludger Gideon Prewett had meant for Lucius in the back of the head and took a much less graceful, much less conscious topple off of his own broomstick to join his friend at the bottom of the pitch. At least Lucius emerged no worse for ware.

That almost sounded genuine in her head.

She had succumbed to Narcissa's request that she stay with her to congratulate Evan on his victory. By congratulate Evan she knew her sister meant dole out a quick hug to him in order to put herself conveniently in Lucius Malfoy's way, but she wasn't about to argue.

Besides, Andromeda figured she would have better luck convincing the new mediwitch to allow her in after she had given her proper time to stop fussing over Thomas rather than busting through the Hospital Wing doors straight from the Quidditch pitch. So she had joined her sister on one of the plush couches by the door while she waited patiently for her opportunity to slip out.

"Andromeda, what a surprise! I thought you would have been in Gryffindor tower by now with the rest of the mudwallowers, consoling them on their loss.”

She didn't even have to raise her eyes to locate the source of the snide comment.

Isabella Greengrass had been seated on the opposite couch since her arrival, all legs and attitude as usual. She had likely been waiting for the upper hand before fanning the flames of their dispute and had found it now that she was surrounded by her seventh year dorm mates, who let out a chorus of giggles at her witty greeting.

Andromeda had been ignoring the little quips all day, but that self satisfied smile was beginning to irritate her.

"Isabella, always a pleasure. It's nice to see you off your back for a change," Andromeda replied with as innocent a smile as she could muster. Her response warranted a nudge in the side from Narcissa. Her sister’s expression let her know that she didn't find her greeting to be characteristic of a woman of their status despite the smile she was doing her best to keep off of her lips.

"Wasn't your cousin just sorted into Gryffindor as well? I'll give him credit. I didn't think anyone could shame your family's name more than you have, but at least you found yourself in Slytherin somehow. He's brought the whole Black legacy down around your arrogant heads," Isabella spat in response.

Any retort of Andromeda’s would have been silenced by the uproar as the door to the common room swung open and the Quidditch team arrived to the exuberant cheers of their housemates. She stood from her seat to join the throng that had ambushed them in the doorway, but Narcissa moved just as quickly to close the distance between herself and Isabella.

Narcissa caught the other girl by the crook of her elbow just as she was walking away and pulled her attention back to her. Although Isabella was older and had quite a few inches on Narcissa, Andromeda caught the flash of nervousness in her eyes at her sister’s touch. She was sure that had less to do with the youngest Black’s intimidation factor and more to do with the eldest's instability and soft spot for ‘Cissy.

"You won't catch me defending my sister's choice in company very often, Isabella, but you would do well to remember that she is still my sister. Don't use her to try to drag my family's name through the dirt simply because Nott has had his fill of you and moved on, it's unbecoming and I won’t suffer it any further.”

And with that Narcissa released her arm, turned on her heel and left Isabella there, speechless.

Andromeda had to give her credit, she was certainly her mother's daughter. When need be, she could deliver a devastating blow and tell you to sod off with all the demure grace and sophistication of an aristocrat.

"All right there, little sister?," Andromeda teased as she maneuvered them to the back of the crowd.

"That trollop has been running her mouth about you all day and it isn't even warranted this time," she replied cooly, standing on her tip toes to catch Evan's attention and enthusiastically wave him over to where they stood. Andromeda could have pointed out that Lucius had his arm draped across Evan's shoulders at the time but that was just coincidence, of course.

"Congratulations, Evan, you were fantastic," Narcissa complimented him in the midsts of all of the back slaps and shoulder shakes he was enduring.

"Smashing," Andromeda agreed, reaching up to wrap her arms around Evan's neck and give him a squeeze. "But if you'll excuse me I've got to get going.”

"Now where in the world are you off to in such a hurry?" he questioned with a raised brow before feigning a moment of miraculous realization, hitting himself in the head with the heel of his hand. "Ah yes, the hospital wing. Making sure Thomas doesn't miss out on his part of the celebratory cheer, yeah? All this house pride...it just warms my heart, Andi.”

"Enough of that," she chided him, quickly dodging his attempt to fluff her hair around, an obnoxious older cousin trait that unfortunately hadn't disappeared with age. "You seem fine with the notion now, oddly enough. I was expecting more of a fuss.”

"He's from a decent family, I don't have much to complain about there," he conceded. "I'm just worried about his intentions. He has a reputation to keep a warm bed and I'd rather not have people assume that’s what’s going on.”

"Subtle, Evan. Do me a favor, let's save the intentions talk for another day, shall we? You have a party to enjoy and I'd rather put off that awkwardness for as long as possible. Besides, I think you have more than one bed you might want to keep an eye on," she pointed out, nodding to the corner of the fireplace Narcissa and Lucius had shuffled off to for a private chat.

"Go on then," he grumbled, giving her a little push towards the door. She didn't need to be excused twice.

It wasn't a long walk from the dungeons to the fourth floor hallway that housed the Hospital Wing. Even though Andromeda hadn't had any injuries or illnesses that landed her in the care of Madame Pomfrey up to that point in her time at the castle, she still could make the journey with her eyes closed due to the fact that the Prefect's bathroom was located on the same floor. Clearly, she was familiar enough with that particular room.

She pushed open the heavy, wooden double doors of the infirmary and stepped through into the Hospital Wing. The sound of her entrance echoed loudly down the high arched corridor and she winced, turning around to let the doors close behind her as quietly as possible in order to stay on Madame Pomfrey's good side. Pomfrey had only taken up residency at Hogwarts last year, but she ruled over the Hospital Wing like a she had been there since the castle's inception. She had earned the reputation of being a strict witch, especially when it came to her patients.

"Andromeda? Is everything alright?”

Ted Tonks' head poked out from the mediwitch's small office, brown eyes narrowed in a gaze of concern. His gold and black tie was hanging at an angle and loose, the knot pulled down almost to the center of his chest. Likewise, his white button up was untucked, hanging out from beneath his wrinkled vest. Fair, untidy hair was sticking out in all directions as if he had been running his hands through it for some time. She had to shake her head and laugh.

Ted lived in the grey area where two parallel worlds blended. She found his stories about his family and life outside of the school to be fascinating, the duality of his existence and experiences intrigued her. He left the castle and went home to people who couldn’t in their wildest dreams imagine the things he did and saw during his five years at Hogwarts.

But best of all, those five years were all he knew of the wizarding world. Her stories of her childhood, her family, her world were so foreign to him. He had insight that no one in her own common room could offer her because it wasn’t influenced by centuries of magical opinion on the Ancient House of Black. She could be an empty canvas on which he could form his own idea of her. She liked that.

"If I didn't know you were incapable of dressing yourself it would look like you and Madame Pomfrey were holed up in there.”

"Jealous?" Ted teased, offering her that smile of his. She had told him once that he could light up a room with his cheeky little grin. He had that effect on people. His face was so expressive that you could almost always judge how he was feeling from it, and when he was happy you couldn't help but share in his joy.

"Hardly," She shot back as she reached out to straighten out his tie before he swatted her hand away. "What are you doing here, anyway?”

"Looking through some of Madame Pomfrey's medicine books," he gestured to the large oak desk in the center of the office which was covered with rolls of parchment and dog eared books. "I told her I was interested in becoming a healer, ya'know? So she lets me work with her sometimes, when it's not too busy, of course. She's down in the dungeons right now, seeing Slughorn about getting some ingredients for an elixir for Nott. Did you see that shot he took? Must've raddled his brains a bit, eh?”

Andromeda recalled the collective hiss of the crowd when the bludger connected with the back of Thomas’ skull.

"I'm sure," she replied quickly, gazing down the long rows of empty beds until she spotted the only occupied one, tucked away in the far back corner. "Is that him?”

"Sure is," Ted replied with a shrug. "He came to by the time he got here and tried to get Pomfrey to let him go back to the dorms, but she said he's stuck here with her and the ladies of Slytherin will have to do without him for the evening. He's been out since."

"He'll be alright though?" she proceeded as casually as she could.

"I'm sure, Pomfrey has already started treating him and the elixir she's brewing up now should help. What's with all the concern, Florence Nightingale?" he pressed, a hint of a frown pressing on his features.

"Just curious is all," she answered before furrowing her brow in confusion. "Wait, Florence who?”

"Nightingale? The Muggle nurse with the lamp?" Ted explained but when he saw no realization dawning on her features he waved it off, not wishing to delve into Muggle history with her again. "Forget it. But speaking of your charming housemates, how did the appearance of another parchment go over in the dungeons?”

She narrowed her eyes in response, silently willing Ted to hold his tongue. She was thankful that he didn't find it necessary to press why she had come to check on Thomas any further than he had. In fact he seemed as eager to change the subject as she was. Unfortunately, the subject he chose was one that had begun to put her a bit on edge, something she wasn't sure he comprehended fully.

Ted certainly understood that there were wizards and witches who considered Muggleborns to be inferior, he had been on the receiving end of that prejudice since he turned eleven and discovered the wizarding world. He read about the disappearances and attacks on Muggles. He knew there was a faction of pureblood fanatics that were beginning to cause a stir throughout Wizarding England. But Andromeda didn't think he fully grasped what they were trying to accomplish and what they would do to achieve it.

What she didn’t think he understood at the time was that if those pureblood fanatics had their way, they wouldn't think twice before they exterminated any witch or wizard without a family history of magic along with anyone that did that stood in their way. He never sat at dinner parties where even the social elite envisioned the destruction of Wizarding society as he knew it and the birth of an era where Muggles' only purpose was to serve their needs.

He didn't understand that all those seemingly refined gentlemen needed was a spark, a leader with a plan to make their ideas possible. Someone that would fill their heads with the grandeur they would possess once they annihilated the infection that they let spread among them.

He also didn't understand that for every maniac that flocked to the Dark Lord there were ten witches and wizards that would support and defend them. He didn't see how fierce a hold on the pureblood families this man could have and just how terrible it might be if nobody put a stop to the Dark Lord's rise to power.

Andromeda wanted to share his belief that she, along with the Prewett, McKinnon, and Bones families would be safe because of their blood. There wasn't many families that could boast the kind of history of purely magical heritage that they could and in the eyes of the Death Eaters it may have been counter productive to trim limbs off of such a small forest of trees. But at the same time, a blood traitor wasn't of much use in their vision and Evan's nervousness about her associations had pricked her fear a bit.

"Don't worry, Andi. Nott is our only company and Pomfrey knocked him out with that potion she gave him. He won't be spreading our secrets around any time soon," Ted assured as he hopped onto the gurney beside him and gestured for her to follow.

"Well it certainly wasn't accepted with open arms, but I don't think any of us expected as much," she replied quietly, easing onto the white sheets beside him. "Narcissa and Evan have alluded to the fact that most of them know I must have had something to do with it, but again that's no big surprise. How did the Hufflepuffs react?”

"Everyone is still going on about it. I think it made a lot of them think about what you said, which is good. I haven't heard anything negative, that's for sure. Gideon told me that there was practically a standing ovation in Gryffindor when it arrived, Marlene said the same for Ravenclaw too," Ted replied, giving her shoulder an encouraging shake. "You did a good thing, Andi. You should let everyone know who to thank for it, my thanks aren't enough.”

"That's enough for me, Ted," Andromeda answered with a smile, nudging him back playfully. "Besides, I'm lucky the Slytherins haven't tied me up and thrown me in the lake just because they think it was me, I'd hate to see what would happen if I confirmed their suspicions. I don't want to be recognized for this. I just want to see a change and if that happens without me having to put my name to any of those parchments that will be just as well, and I'll keep writing until I see it. I'm just happy that you all are willing to help.”

"Will we be meeting again this week?" Ted asked hopefully, jumping off the gurney and offering his hand to help her. "Or do you want to let all the talk settle down before you cause another stir?”

"No, I think it would be good for us to meet again as soon as possible," she replied, taking his hand to allow him to help her down. "We should discuss what else we should bring up now that we have everyone's attention.”

"Just say the word, love," he answered with a wink. "I'll come running with quill and parchment in hand.”

"Wednesday it is. I'll spread the word around," she assured him quickly as she released his hand and took a few steps back. "I'm just going to check up on Thomas quick and then I've got to get back to the party.”

"Ah, right," Ted mumbled, passing his hand through his hair absently. "I should get back to the books anyway. Enjoy your night, Andi."

"Night, Ted.”

He ducked back into the office and she waited until she heard the squeak of the chair as he sat before she made her way down the aisle to where Thomas lay. His Quidditch robes were folded neatly on the cart beside his bed, still stained with grass and dirt and splattered with blood. He was now clad in the standard patient robes of the hospital, curled up on his side beneath the blindingly white sheets. He still seemed to be sleeping peacefully from the effects of whatever potion Pomfrey had given him when he arrived. His dark hair poked out from beneath the bandages wrapped tightly around his head, the back of which were stained with dark, dry blood where he had been hit.

She frowned at the sight of it as she carefully took a seat beside him on the gurney and leaned over him. Her hand reached out to brush some of the matted hair from his eyes and trailed down the length of his jawline softly. The touch made him stir and he turned his head towards her before his blue eyes blinked open and fixed her with a hazy stare.

“Merlin,” he breathed as he lifted a finger to her face and ran it along the outline of the snake before disjointedly trailing across her cheek bone and over the bridge of her nose as if he was tracing something only he could see. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I’m going to have to find out what Pomfrey gave you and keep a stash on hand for later,” she teased as she caught his hand in her own and rested it back on his chest.

“It’s such a shame,” he slurred, his brows knitted together as if he was in pain and he squinted his eyes, struggling to focus.

Andromeda leaned down so that her face was only inches from his and whispered, “I know, I think I would have preferred to meet you in the Astronomy Tower as well.”

His heavy lids came down again and he dropped his head back into his pillow with a sigh. The potion hadn't made its way out of his system yet.

"Feel better, Thomas," she whispered as she adjusted the blankets over his shoulders and lowered her head to place a kiss on his cheek.

"Miss Black, if I thought that you could treat Mister Nott's head injury with your lips I would have sent for you already.”

Madame Pomfrey's clipped voice broke the silence of the Hospital Wing and made her jump off the gurney so fast she nearly knocked over the medical cart at its side. She stood outside of the office door, one hand on her hip and the other clutching a still smoking potion flask as she fixed Andromeda with a stern glare. She was a petite woman, her sandy blond hair pulled back tightly against her head and secured with a medical hat that made her look all the more serious.

“Oh, I’m sorry ma’am…I was checking on him," Andromeda stammered, as she scurried down the hall towards where the mediwitch stood in front of the exit. She felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she caught her gaze and offered a weak smile.

"Yes I saw that. Now that you've seen for yourself that he's being properly cared for I think you should head back to your dormitory," she replied, stepping aside and motioning for Andromeda to continue on her way.

She nodded quickly and bustled past, raising her gaze to peer into the office. Ted was still seated at the desk, staring down at the scribbles on the parchment in front of him. His head was propped up on his hand, shielding him from her as she passed. He didn't offer her a wave or even lift his eyes off his work as he heard her, but Andromeda did manage to catch the hurt on his face before she passed.

She let the door close behind her with a pang of guilt in her chest as she stepped out into the empty corridor.


	9. Way Down We Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Soundtrack: Way Down We Go - Kaleo

**Crossfire: Chapter Nine**  
_Thomas Nott_

Thomas woke up to the sound laughter chiming somewhere down a dark tunnel. It was far away and close at the same time and he felt like his brain was pounding against his head so hard it was going to split right down the middle. He squeezed his eyes closed against it and when he opened them he recognized the old, light stone of the Hospital Wing corridor as it swam lazily into view.

At first he thought she was part of his dream. Andromeda was running through the dungeons in front of him, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders and she turned around with that blissful grin and laughed as he followed her. But then he heard another voice, a man's voice. He was laughing too. She skidded to a stop in front of him and her body exploded with green light and she was falling. His head exploded in pain and he couldn't move to catch her.

Up until then he had been floating in and out of his own thoughts thanks to the delightful potion that Pomfrey had given to him upon his arrival. He remembered flying behind Lucius as he swooped down toward the sandy bottom of the pitch, chasing the fluttering flash of gold in front of him. Thomas heard the crack as a wooden bat hit the bludger right behind him and then he was falling, the ground spinning as he came in for a rough landing.

Then he was on the gurney in the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey waving a chalice in front of his face and filling him in on why he could feel the slick wetness and smell the metallic scent of fresh blood coating the back of his head, telling him to drink. He did, and then he was out again.

Thomas blinked, his vision swimming a bit less each time until finally everything came into focus and his senses came back to him. Andromeda was in fact in the room, speaking to what sounded like the Mudblood, Tonks. He vaguely remembered him looking over Pomfrey's shoulder as she mixed the potion on the cart beside him, explaining the ingredients and their amounts and uses. She certainly didn't mention that Thomas would wake up feeling like his mouth had been stuffed full of bandages the entire time he had been asleep. He began to push himself up, eyeing the basin against the opposite wall as if it was a mile away.

_"Don't worry, Andi. Nott is our only company and Pomfrey knocked him out with that potion she gave him. He won't be spreading our secrets around any time soon.”_

Thomas froze, settling soundlessly back against the white hospital sheets as he strained to listen to their conversation echo off the walls. His breath hitched and he considered whether or not he wanted to stop fighting the effects of the potion, let it sweep him back into a blissful, ignorant sleep. If not, he would know for sure if Andromeda was really the one he was after, or if she could be spared as a simple messenger for another blinkered pureblood. Even in that moment he was simply trying to fool himself. He already knew.

_"I don't want to be recognized for this. I just want to see a change and if that happens without me having to put my name to any of those parchments that will be fine, and I'll keep writing until I see it. I'm just happy that you all are willing to help.”_

There it was. Thomas willed himself to stay awake. He wanted to curse, punch the pillow, jump up and shake her until she admitted that she was lying even if she wasn't, just to save her own skin. Tell her to name someone else, anyone else. But he just let his chest rise and fall in a lazy, sleepy rhythm. The drafty corridor whisked the scent of her over to him before the sound of her footsteps alerted him that she was approaching. He felt her fingertips on his skin, then he was drifting away again.

"That was a nice bump you took, mate.”

Lucius stood behind him, sizing up the tender, egg shaped bulge in the back of his head as he gathered up his Quidditch robes and discharge instructions from Madame Pomfrey. His friend had arrived not long ago with a change of robes from his trunk at the request of Pomfrey to make sure Thomas made it back to the dungeons. She wanted to keep him for one more day of observation but he had talked her out of it. He couldn't spend any more time stuck in a hospital bed with his own thoughts.

"Bloody Prewett and his shite aim,” Thomas muttered, directing Lucius out the door. "It's a good thing you caught the snitch, because if I had taken that bludger and you lost the game I would have hexed you as soon as I laid eyes on you.”

"As if you had any doubt," Lucius huffed as they turned down the fourth floor of the Hospital tower corridor and headed back to the dungeons. "I did enjoy the celebrations, sorry you had to miss it. Narcissa was quite impressed with me.”

"Oh well, I'm glad to be of some service to you," Thomas replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Good to see those glamours held up the whole time you were there, I was a little worried they would wear off when you were unconscious.”

Thomas absently ran his hand over the inside of his left forearm where the skull and snake that made up the Dark Mark had been set into his skin. While in the castle he kept it constantly glamoured in case of such incidents as his stay in the Hospital Wing. Lucius and Macnair had told him he was being paranoid, but he would have much rather have been paranoid than taking up permanent residence in Azkaban.

"I hope that situation has convinced you to start using them as well.”

"Yes, Mother," Lucius replied, echoing the snarky tone Thomas had adopted when he said the same words to him only a few days earlier. "Oh, I thought I should let you know that everyone's favorite blood traitor snuck away to pay you a visit last night. How sweet.”

"I know, I was in and out at the time, but I saw her," Thomas confessed, turning his head to his friend to catch his reaction. "It's her. She's the one writing all the parchments, just as Bellatrix said.”

"She told you?" Lucius breathed in disbelief as a smile crept onto his features. "How perfect!”

"No she didn't tell me. I overheard her talking to Ted Tonks. She's writing everything, there are others helping her distribute them, probably getting them sent out to the Prophet and contacts outside of the castle. I know at least one of the Prewetts and the McKinnons are involved, and the Mudblood of course, he's infatuated with her," Thomas spat.

"You've got to send word to your father. Tell him to let the Dark Lord know, see what he wants you to do next," Lucius exclaimed as he rubbed his hands together in delight.

Thomas dropped his gaze to his feet and made a noise in response. The smile slid off Lucius' face as soon as he noticed he wasn't sharing in his happiness.

He eyed Thomas suspiciously in silence for a few moments before he grabbed a hold of the side of his robes and tugged him to a stop.

"Alright, let's have it. What's with this melancholy nonsense?" he demanded eyes darting up and down the corridor to ensure their privacy, despite their hushed voices. Thankfully the tower wasn't a heavily populated one, especially since classes were in session at the time.

"I don't know," Thomas muttered, tenderly passing a hand over the back of his head. "I'm not sure about all of this…"

"How hard did you get hit exactly?" Lucius asked incredulously. "This is what you wanted! He chose you to do this, you accepted. It was an honor and now it has to be done. There's no sense in thinking too hard on it, it's that simple.”

"For you, maybe," Thomas snapped.

"For Merlin's sake, you're acting like she's going to die by your wand.”

"She might as well be! Do you think that Narcissa would be happy to see her sister handed over to be tortured and killed like some Muggle? What do you think she would say to you if she knew you had something to do with it?” Thomas questioned, giving Lucius a shove into the wall behind him, breaking his grip on his robe.

The impact shocked Lucius and his cool eyes flashed with the rage Thomas knew always lurked just beneath his calm demeanor, waiting.

"I don't give a bugger what happens to that girl," Lucius snarled, waving off Thomas’ questions with irritation as he stepped off the wall to crowd him. "It doesn't matter to me if Narcissa wouldn't want her dead, do you know why? Because Bellatrix does and more importantly so does Voldemort. So if she doesn't end up at his feet do you know who is going to take her place? You are, my friend. So wise up.”

"She's a pureblood, Lucius," Thomas ventured.

"She may be. But she's also a traitor, so in my eyes she's chosen to throw her lot in with the Mudbloods so she can die like them. If you won't acknowledge her blood why should it protect her? It's of no consequence to me and it shouldn't be to you either," he answered, "Do you really think she would keep cozying up to you if she found out what you are and why you've been pursuing her? You can be sure she would have you hauled in front of the Wizengamot and off to Azkaban before you even knew what happened. You've read those letters too, you know what she thinks of us.”

"You're right.”

Thomas took a couple of steps back and turned, continuing on his way without checking to see if Lucius was following him. He hoped he sounded sincere enough not to warrant any further conversation on the matter. Lucius was right.

They had talked about earning the mark, serving the Dark Lord and reaping the rewards their loyalty would provide, defending their bloodlines, and the like. But that was talk, and this was reality where there were actual consequences for their actions and it wouldn't be some nameless faceless Muggle that would suffer for his.

"Listen," Lucius pressed, coming up on his side. His anger was almost gone, replaced only with a concerned tone that seemed almost out of place coming from him. "There's nothing we can really do about it now, we're right under Dumbledore's nose. Write your father, tell him what you know and see what he says. At least tell me you'll do that.”

Thomas nodded in reply and Lucius clapped his hand on his shoulder with an encouraging shake. There was no point in being sore with him. Everything he was saying was right and in his own best interest, even he had to admit that to himself. It didn't make the tightness in the pit of his stomach feel any better though.

"Good. I've got to get to Transfiguration," Lucius released his shoulder but didn't take any steps back, instead he pressed his fingers to his lips thoughtfully before proceeding with his voice low. "Don't think for a moment I won't turn her over on your behalf if I didn't think you'll do it, my friend. I won't be burying your body when I could easily be burying hers. Know that.”

"It won't come to that," Thomas assured him with a narrowed gaze. He felt his jaw tighten and his hands clench at his side at the prospect of it, something that certainly didn't escape Lucius' notice.

"I won't be gentle about it either," Lucius pressed on, the corner of his lips turning up into a devious smile at the thought. "So for her sake, let's hope it doesn’t."

"I said I've got this, Lucius." Thomas hissed, "Get to class.”

"Good man.”

He turned away and left Thomas there. As he listened to his friend’s footsteps get fainter and fainter until he was left in the silence of the corridor his blood boiled. He was disgusted with himself for being unable to separate truth from illusion, for being so transparent. He was frustrated that Lucius had to threaten him to get him back on track, and a little scared that Lucius meant what he said.

He was weak. His head swam, his stomach rolled, he was shaking. So weak.

Thomas stumbled over to the side of an archway and let himself drop to the floor. He leaned his back up against the cold stone and took a deep breath as his forehead pounded against his eyes. He closed them, dizzy and nauseas. A sheen of cold sweat coated his skin beneath his robes.

"Hey...Nott, alright, there?”

Thomas peeked an eye open. He wasn’t sure how long he had been there, he hadn’t heard any footsteps approach but now Tonks stood in front of him, untucked and sloppy as usual. His eyes held an expression of concern mixed with hesitance beneath all that shaggy hair, as though he had seriously considered leaving Thomas there, perhaps giving him a kick to the side as he walked by. But his conscience had made him stop.

"Smashing, keep it moving," Thomas answered with a snort as he dropped his hands to the floor and started to push himself back up, pausing in a crouched position as his equilibrium adjusted. Tonks stood there, watching him the whole time. He shuffled nervously.

"That bludger you took...your head probably isn't going to be right for a few days and you haven't eaten so you're going to be a bit-“

"I thought I said keep it moving," Thomas interrupted, waving him down the hallway as he raised himself back onto his feet, keeping his back against the arch for support. Tonks’ voice was making his anger surge up again, accompanied with another flash of pain in his skull. At this rate he would never make it back to the dungeons.

"Would you like me to take you back to Madame Pomfrey?" Tonks tried again.

"If I wanted to see Madame Pomfrey, don't you think I would have just stayed where I was?" Thomas growled as he shook his head. "You really are a dim lot, aren't you?”

"Hufflepuffs or Muggleborns?” Tonks retorted with a smirk as Thomas stepped off the archway, brushing the dust off his robes gingerly.

“Both."

Ted laughed the answer off. It sounded forced, as if he was willing to pretend that it was a teasing little jab from a friend in an effort to keep the conversation civilized. Thomas could see his smile wasn't quite as bright as it had been before that response, but it stubbornly hung in there all the same.

Irritating.

"Fair enough. I was hoping we could talk, if that's alright with you," Ted pressed. "I don't think you want me to follow you into the dungeons so you should probably just stay still for a moment, catch your balance and listen.”

"You have nerve," Thomas muttered coldly, but folded his arms across his chest and nodded for Ted to proceed. A cruel smile found its way onto his lips and he adopted an expression of mock curiosity. "What could you possibly have to discuss with me? Want to borrow some Potions notes? Switch Prefect rounds? Warn me to stay away from a certain Black sister you fawn over every time you're close enough? What?”

Thomas thought that would have been enough to make Ted back down and let him continue in peace back to his dormitory. Tonks wasn't one for confrontation he had noticed. The smile that clung to the Hufflepuff’s lips slid off almost instantly. He had caught him off guard with his blunt assumption. But rather than stumble over himself and back down he narrowed his eyes and steadied himself.

"What do you see in her?" Ted asked quietly. "You've been in the same house for six years and you never thought to give her any mind until now. Why?”

"Oh I don't know," Thomas pondered. "Maybe she just caught my eye. I don't see how it's any of your business.”

"She isn't like you.”

"Excuse me?" Thomas laughed, raising his fingers to count off on them. "She's an aristocrat, she's a pureblood, she's a Slytherin. I would say she's much more like me than you like to admit.”

"She's not. She's nothing like any of you," Tonks answered so forcefully Thomas was almost impressed.

"Like me? Purebloods or Slytherins?” He mimicked him.

“Both."

"Do you really think that she would ever be interested in you, Tonks?” Thomas challenged as he stepped closer to the other boy with a laugh. He shook his head, pressing his fingers to his temples as though the thought was so farfetched he couldn't even grasp it. "You know...she might not be happy with how she's treated, but do you know what would happen to her if she actually carried on some kind of relationship with a Mudblood like you?”

Ted's eyes dropped to the floor as the weight of the question fell on him. Clearly he had considered the implications of it. Even so, Thomas felt it necessary to clarify. For Ted’s sake, of course.

"They barely tolerate her now, she would be tossed out," Thomas continued mercilessly. "No family, no home, no money, nothing. Everything she knows would be gone,” he snapped his fingers, “Like that. That whole society, all her friends, they'll turn their backs on her and given the current atmosphere and the prestige of her family she'll be lucky if she isn't killed for it. Consider that the next time you try to wrap your head around why I'm interested in Andromeda and set your sights elsewhere, just a polite suggestion. You just don't understand the implications.”

He had finally stunned Ted into silence and he wasn't about to wait for him to find his tongue. Thomas stalked off and left him where he stood. Hopefully that would be enough to ensure that Ted wouldn't feel the need to meddle in his business for a while, he didn't have time to concern himself with the Mudblood any further.


	10. Bloodstream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Soundtrack: Bloodstream - Stateless

**Crossfire: Chapter Ten**  
_Andromeda Black_

Druella Black’s owl always was a harbinger of impending doom, usually Andromeda’s own. For six years she would see that fat bunch of feathers swooping over the Slytherin table and cringe. This morning's breakfast had been no different. Austine had let out an irritated cry as he released his precious cargo down into her hands and flew off with an air of annoyance. Clearly he had other plans for his day that did not involve delivering yet another message to her.  
She didn't need to open it to know what the letter was about. She had already received three so far that term that had said the same thing each time. She had no desire to begin her day on a sour note, so she had tucked it into her pockets and out of her mind.

As she sat at a table in the dim light of the Slytherin common room, pouring over her Potions notes, the corner of the envelope poked into her skin and she was once again reminded of it's presence. She turned the envelope over in her hands. Her mother's delicate swirling cursive covered the back of it with unnecessary flourish. The family crest sealed it closed on the opposite side with black wax. Her fingers traced the motto imprinted across the bottom scroll, one she knew all too well. Toujours Pur. Always, always, always pure.

_Andromeda,_  
_I hope you are doing well. I stress hope due to the fact that you've failed to see any need to write to your mother, who has brought you into this world and has given you everything. Don't act as though you haven't received any of my prior letters either, young lady, as both your sister and your cousin have had no problems with Austine's delivery skills and have found time to reply as well._  
_Regardless, I am writing to inform you once more that I have begun making invitations for the Christmas party this year and I need to know where I should be addressing the one for your escort and his family or Merlin help you, I will ask Rabastan to bring you again, and you remember how embarrassed you were last time. If you are having difficulty in finding a guest might I suggest you conduct yourself as a lady of your upbringing should and take a hard look at who you are spending your time with in that castle._  
_Also, I thought you should know that your Uncle Alphard will be joining us this year so you will not be able to pull the stunt he allowed you to pull by spending Christmas on holiday with him. Please be prompt about your reply. I have a seating chart to arrange and these things take time._  
_Give my love to Narcissa and Evan and for Merlin's sake, do your best to straighten out Sirius. Your Aunt Walburga is in such a state over his sorting._  
_Regards,_  
_Druella Black_

Andromeda’s father used to say there were only two certainties: death, and the Black Family Christmas party. The later of which was the night where the socially acceptable pureblood families flocked to her parents' house in their finest and spent the evening congratulating each other on being the pinnacles of Wizarding society. Consequently it was also Narcissa's favorite night of the year.

Her sister’s squeal of delight at her side informed Andromeda and everyone within earshot that she had been reading over her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Narcissa's outburst had even grabbed the attention of Isabella, which was impressive seeing as how she had spent nearly the entire evening draped across the lap of Walden Macnair. The two had been sharing a chair by the fire nearly every night for the past week, and when they weren't in the common room he could usually be found trailing behind her like the big dumb puppy he was.

Isabella caught Andromeda’s gaze and much to her surprise, rather than her usual sneer, a victorious smile spread across her lips before she turned into Macnair to whisper in his ear.

"Oh, Andi, I'm so excited! Mum and I already placed my dress on hold at Twilfit and Tattings while we were shopping for school robes in the summer! You'll love it, it's the most beautiful shade of green. And I think I'm finally going to ask Lucius if he wants to be my guest this year. Do you think I should?”

“No."

Andromeda thoroughly despised Divination and held no stock in it, but if there was such a thing as a sixth sense, hers was buzzing. Something about Isabella and Walden wasn't right.

"What? Why not?" Narcissa snapped before swatting Andromeda’s arm indignantly to force her attention back to her. She was staring at her, wide eyed and open mouthed, clearly offended that she had shot the idea down without even batting an eye.

"Because he's an awful human being," Andromeda answered simply as she thumbed through her pile of parchment.

"I'll have you know that Mother loves him," Narcissa pointed out haughtily. "She says he reminds her of Father at his age, very well mannered and elegant.”

"If Father was a pretentious, self serving, egotistical prat at his age too, then I would be inclined to agree with Mother for once," Andromeda teased. "Just looking out for you, ‘Cissy."

Narcissa scowled as she closed the cover of her Transfiguration book and swiveled in her seat to face her.

"Well since you insist on being so judgmental of my potential escorts, let's hear yours," she huffed. "Have you given any thought as to who you will be taking?”

“Since Mother has seen to it that hiding in France again this year won’t be an option I was thinking about bringing Ted Tonks along. He'd be a laugh," Andromeda answered with deadpan sincerity. "I think Father would absolutely love him, don't you?”

Narcissa’s blue eyes went wide and her hand flew to her chest as though her sister had jumped out of her closet and scared her half to death. What was even more humorous was the fact that she wouldn't put it past Andromeda to actually follow through with it. She knew how much she hated the Christmas party.

"You wouldn't dare," Narcissa whispered.

"Of course not. I wouldn't do that to Ted. But the more you and Mum harass me about this the more I'm tempted, just to ruin it and spite you both," Andromeda said, exasperated. "Now, I thought we were studying.”

Narcissa grudgingly opened her textbook back up, although Andromeda could see that she was staring blankly at the page. The wheels in her mind still turning over the guest list and not inanimate to animate transfiguration.

"You can always go with Rabastan again...Mother has practically been forcing the two of you together at every turn since Bellatrix married Rodolphus," Narcissa continued thoughtfully after only a few moments of silence. "You're next in line. You two don't look bad together, either.”

"You're almost as bad as she is,” Andromeda lamented, tapping the tip of her quill on her sister’s book. "I'm perfectly capable of finding my own date if I so chose, thank you very much. I don't need any help in the matter, so kindly stop trying.”

"Will you be asking Thomas Nott then?" Narcissa finally blurted out. Her expression was playful and she leaned into her sister when she received an aggravated look in response, “Hmm?”

"Asking me where?”

They both jumped as Thomas dropped his bag on the table between them and placed a hand on each of their chairs. He glanced between the two of them expectantly with his usual faux innocent smile.

"To our family's Christmas party," Narcissa piped up before Andromeda could avert the conversation elsewhere. She cast her sister a sly gaze before adding, "I believe you have attended in the past, if I'm not mistaken. Has he not, Andi?”

“I believe he has,” Andromeda replied conversationally. Beneath the table her leg bumped Narcissa’s and she fixed her with a warning look which Narcissa pointedly ignored.

"My sister and I were just discussing whether or not you might be interested in attending this year, actually," she pressed on, much to Andromeda's chagrin. She had to fight to keep the smile clinging to her lips when all she wanted to do was covertly grab Narcissa's fingers and squeeze them until she stopped talking.

"Now that all depends," Thomas replied, his gaze settling on Andromeda. "Am I allowed to bring a guest with me?”

"Well...I suppose you are, yes," Narcissa stammered. Andromeda on the other hand, had begun sinking lower and lower in her seat in an effort to slip under the table and die of embarrassment.

"Who might you be taking, Andromeda?” he asked. As he spoke his fingers slipped across the back of her neck, collecting her ringlets of hair and brushing them onto her shoulder. She shivered as the back of his hand skimmed her collar bone.

“No one as of yet," she answered weakly.

"How lucky for me," he mused as he lowered his head to her ear. "I would be delighted if you would consider allowing me to accompany you this year. Otherwise, I'm afraid I'll have to decline the invitation. Which would be a shame because I do love a good party.”

"That sounds wonderful...I'll send word to my parents and have them arrange for you to stay with us," she answered quickly as she started collecting her belongings from the table. She knew her smile stretched from ear to ear from the look on Narcissa's face as she watched, satisfied with her contribution to the arrangement.

"Well before you do all that, at the risk of taking advantage of your good graces, I have another favor to ask you," Thomas interjected before he reached between the two of them to withdraw a large roll of parchment from his bag. Andromeda recognized the grid of intersecting lines almost instantly. It was a star chart, similar to the one she had been working on that went missing, only Thomas' was noticeably emptier.

"What I originally wanted to ask you was whether or not you would be opposed to giving me a bit of help with all this. It's due tomorrow and your cousin might have mentioned that you have a knack for Astronomy.”

"Oh, that's no problem at all, it's a clear enough night. We'll have this done in no time," Andromeda exclaimed as she stood from her seat, parchments tucked under her arm. "I'll get my telescope and meet you there?”

"Oh don't bother, I'll bring mine," Thomas insisted with a grin as he swept his bag off the table and nodded to her sister as he backed his way toward the dormitories. "Sorry for the intrusion Narcissa, you have a lovely evening.”

"Oh think nothing of it, Thomas, I would never dream of coming between you and your Astronomy marks," Narcissa assured him as her eyes flicked between the two of them with a knowing gleam. "Enjoy your studies.”

“I hope he got permission to use the tower tonight,” Andromeda mused as she watched him go.

“I’m sure he didn’t, but don’t worry, I’m on patrols tonight with Fabian Prewett,” Narcissa assured her. “Just keep it down up there and I’ll make sure we stay far away.”

* * *

The Astronomy Tower provided an uninterrupted view of the skies from the highest point in the castle. It was a cloudless night, clear enough that Andromeda didn't even need a telescope to pick out the groups of stars that made up her favorite constellation, her namesake. She tugged her robes tight around her against the the late fall chill that was creeping over the countryside as she ventured out onto the tower's rampart. She rested against the cold stone and raised her fingers to trace out that familiar form in the sky. One by one, she came to life in the emptiness.

When she was young her father would bring his telescope into her room and together they would locate that constellation he told her was right overhead the night she was born. Bellatrix was never interested in seeing her stars and Narcissa had always felt left out that she had no constellation to call her own. Her mother had always hated the subject, so it was Andromeda that her father shared his passion for Astronomy with. By the time she started school she had been plotting the stars for years.

"Fancy meeting you here.”

For the second time that night, Thomas Nott had snuck up on her without a sound to announce his presence. She jumped, dropping her hands to grip the wall as she spun around to face him. He stood at the classroom's threshold in the large stone archway that led out onto where the rampart jutted out from the turret, his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Thomas, really. You scared me half to death," She exclaimed as her hand flew to her heart. She leaned forward and let out a sigh in an effort to slow the pounding in her chest.

"This probably isn't the best place for you to lose track of your surroundings," he replied, his expression strangely grim as he watched her steady herself. "If I wanted to I could have easily taken you by surprise right there.”

"Why do you make it sound like such a bad thing?" She replied, tilting her head in question with an inviting smile.

"How do you know it isn't?" he retorted with a questioning expression of his own.

"I don't," Andromeda breathed. "Where is your telescope?”

Thomas chuckled darkly as he joined her in the cool night air, circling around where she stood. His movements were fluid, like a predator slinking around unknowing prey. Her eyes followed him with an unwavering gaze, and she remained still as he drew closer.

"I must have forgotten it," he answered, his voice sounded like a growl. "Silly me.”

“Well then I hope your star chart really isn’t due tomorrow.”

He came to a stop in front of her, one arm circling around her back, the opposite hand firmly wrapped around her thigh, holding her against him. Before she could resist he had effortlessly eased her off her feet to settle on the rampart wall, one hand on either side of where she came to sit as he hovered over her. There was nothing behind her back, just a long drop to the ground below and all he had to do to make that happen was push.

Andromeda’s heartbeat picked up again, sensing the dangerous air of this little game.

"So, you were just trying to get me alone then?”

"I suppose I was.”

"Well, here I am," she murmured against his ear. She felt the shiver run through his body and he tensed in response. She risked a glance up at his face. His eyes were searching her expression for some hint of apprehension or unease and appearing downright incredulous that he saw none.

“Aren’t you afraid?” he asked plainly.

“No..."

Andromeda wasn’t sure who moved first, her or Thomas. In an instant his arms were around her, pulling her off the rampart wall and into the warm heat of his body. His lips brushed hers, more demanding than last time but still soft. She opened her mouth and he found a rhythm, that even her own inexperience couldn't miss. It was too easy to push away her worries about appearing clumsy, he seemed so enthralled that it obviously was of no consequence to him.

He walked them back until she heard the back of his legs bump the end of one of the long wooden desks inside the classroom. He turned, pressing her hips into the desk and crowding her until she sank onto it. The arrangement was licentious, with Thomas coming to stand between her parted legs but he caught himself before he pushed her any further. His hands hesitantly slid down her sides to rest his palms on the exposed skin just above her knees. They stopped there as if in the form of a question.

“Andi…,” he breathed, ragged, and she felt a lovely heat curling within her at the sound of her pet name on his tongue.

She leaned forward a little, their foreheads touching. Her fingers nimbly unlatched the clasp of his robe at his throat and she raised her other hand to push it back off his shoulders. The sound of the heavy fabric hitting the stone floor was her answer but Thomas still didn’t move. She hooked a finger around his tie and pulled slowly until the full length of it was exposed from under his vest. She curled the green silk around her fist and tugged until finally, he smiled deviously and switched his grip to her hips with a sharp yank toward him.

When she arched up into his chest he leaned his full weight into her, one hand pressed firm to the small of her back and the other tangling in her hair, pushing her shoulders back to the hard wooden desk. A clipped groan escaped his lips as he followed her down. She scooted further back and he followed her up onto the table as his mouth found hers again.

Andromeda was sure he could feel the pounding of her heart against his chest, they were so close. She breathed deep, in and out through her nose. The kiss had lost any pretense of innocence and gradually intensified to an urgent, demanding crash of lips. That calculated restraint he had maintained all this time was gone now, replaced only with a longing, desirous fervor that she returned in kind. Emboldened, her hands moved down his sides and slipped beneath the white shirt beneath his vest. Her fingers splayed along the lines of muscle and he exhaled a sigh at the cold touch on his heated skin.

His lips reached her jaw, her ear, and down to her neck where warmth radiated from the spot he found and burst through the rest of her, raising the hairs on her arms. A small surprised noise escaped her throat and she felt him grin against her skin as he returned his attentions there.

She gripped his arm hard and he stopped to lock eyes with her. It wasn’t until then that she noticed how much tension her body was holding. It was as if every muscle was locked, taken over by overwhelming anticipation. She relaxed and his hand moved down, painstakingly slow, venturing over the curves of her until he reached exposed skin below her skirt. Her breath hitched and her lips parted.

At first she thought the sound of the door to the tower stairwell opening was the creak of the table from Thomas’ movement, but then she heard the noise echoing up the staircase from below.

“-Told you I’ve already checked up here, Fabian!”

Her sister’s usually restrained voice was shrill, her footsteps resounded with all the force her diminutive form could have mustered to warn them of their approach.

“I heard you, but I’m responsible for rounds until you’re done with training so I have to make sure. I don’t need it coming back on me if someone gets caught up here.”

“Damn Prewetts,” Thomas hissed as he slid back off the table. He caught her hand and helped her to her feet before collecting his robe and directing her behind the doorway to the classroom. He pressed his back to the wall and she crammed in against him just in time for the door to swing open, shielding them in darkness behind it.

Thomas watched over her shoulder as they listened to the pair of prefects move around the room. She was flush against him and he held her there, still, with both hands on her back. She sucked in a breath and held it.

“Are you satisfied now?” Narcissa’s irritable tone sounded from the doorway as Prewett’s footsteps shuffled around the room.

“Nothing personal, Black, don’t be so testy,” Fabian grumbled.

A quiet snort of laughter escaped Andromeda’s nose and Thomas gave her a tight squeeze in response but it was covered up by the impatient tapping of her sister’s foot against the stone.

“Alright, alright, let’s move on,” he relented and the door swung back closed with a bang.

“Do we really need to check every wing on the hour?” Narcissa complained loudly from the landing as they made their way back down the stairs.

“I’m just trying to teach you the right way to do rounds is all, when you’re on your own you can do as you please,” Fabian snapped as the door to the stairway closed behind them.

“You’ll have to thank your sister for her subtle warnings,” Thomas smirked as he slipped his robe back over his shoulders. “Prewett’s on a power kick, it sounds like we had better head back. I'll find you tomorrow?”

“You go first, if we get caught together it will be double the points,” Andromeda replied as she shuffled her feet back so that he had room to move past her but he reached out to cup her face with his hand and dropped a kiss to her cheek instead. His lips dragged along the arch of the bone until they met hers again and this time, she realized, his eyes were closed.


	11. Remain Nameless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Soundtrack: Remain Nameless - Florence and the Machine

**Crossfire: Chapter 11**  
_Thomas Nott_

The rain pelted the ceiling of the Great Hall, seemingly in competition with the hundreds of conversations from the tables below as breakfast leisurely dragged on. Although thunder rumbled threateningly overhead, the glow of the candles provided a pleasant, warm glow to contrast the dim elements outside. The castle itself was trying to lull him into a sense of contentment and as he watched the trickles of rain sliding down the glass, he had to admit it was working. Or at the very least it was adding to the dangerous _something_ that settled in on him since the night before.

Something that had the inconvenient tendency to form a tightness in his chest every time his mind wandered back to the Astronomy Tower. Something that had kept him up all night, not with the overwhelming dread that should have come hand in hand with the sensation. Not a sense of accomplishment that, for all intents and purposes and in a very loose sense of duty, he was making progress in his task. Something that he was hoping would go away if he could manage to shake the images of her closed eyes, the sensation of her hands on his skin, the scent of her from his head. Something that he wasn't going to dignify with a title.

He pulled her into him and right through the neat little barriers that he had built between them for this mission of his. He had lost control and she didn’t stop him, she encouraged him. That something ripped his hesitation away until there was nothing but the feel of her beneath him and her breath in his ear.

He was almost thankful Fabian Prewett was such an overachiever. He was so far lost in the moment he wasn't sure if he would have stopped himself without the interruption.

He risked a glance down the table and found her in her usual spot, sandwiched between Evan and Narcissa's animated conversation. If he wasn't looking for her, he would have almost missed her. But then again, he supposed that was how she liked it. Smooth hair, pressed robes, and straight back, she was nothing like she had been last night on the outside. But those distant brown eyes were staring at the same storm above with a quiet contemplation, nodding vacantly to the conversation that he knew she wasn't listening to, didn't give a care about. She was thinking about it too.

Her gaze slid lazily down the table and locked with his. She grinned and raised a hand to wave him over, and then in an instant her whole expression changed. The smile slid right off her face as though it had been slapped off and her brow furrowed before she shifted in her seat and turned away, uneasy.

"I knew there wasn't anything to worry about…”

A sharp nail ran teasingly along the side of Thomas’ neck and Isabella's breathy voice hit his ear before he had a chance to discover for himself the reason behind Andromeda's sudden shift in demeanor.

He snatched her hand off his shoulder and pushed it back as he turned to glower with all the annoyance he could muster. He figured that would be enough to quell whatever misguided sense of entitlement had driven her to initiate the contact in the first place but when he caught sight of her he paused, confused. Even after his dismissal she looked positively pleased with herself.

"I'm sorry?”

"You and the Black girl," Isabella elaborated with a smirk as she confidently leaned into him and rested an elbow on the table, shooting her eyes down the breakfast table to where Andromeda sat for emphasis. "I knew it couldn't be true. You are good though, you even had me fooled.”

"You're mad, you know. Do us all a favor and get some help," Thomas muttered as he stood from his spot. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Andromeda's sidelong glance had become fixed on the interaction, her whole frame almost hidden behind Evan's massive build. Even Narcissa leaned back in her seat, cold eyes gauging the situation. It was the last thing Thomas wanted for a number of reasons.

"I understand of course, darling, and don't worry...I'm not upset. Walden told me you have to be very convincing," Isabella whispered from her seat, a guise of innocence on her features as she twisted a strand of hair around her finger and waited for him to take the bait. Other than her words she made no effort to stop him but she might as well have tugged him down by the front of his robes.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to, Isabella,” Thomas replied coolly as he lowered himself back into his seat, studying her face for a clue as to whether she was digging for information or already had all she needed. He was hoping it was the first. “Care to elaborate?”

"Oh Thomas, really," she giggled as she leaned in close and lowered her voice. "You mustn't be sore with him. He's not the brightest, we both know. It took a bit of effort but eventually he gave me the piece of the puzzle I needed. Really, you should thank him. I was starting to consider turning my attention elsewhere if you had become so disillusioned that you were actually chasing _her_. But now that I know the truth, well...it's only a matter of time, yeah? Then we'll be together again. And the Dark Lord will be in your debt.”

For once, Thomas was stunned silent. Macnair really didn't have the brains Merlin gave to a gindylow. But to be fair, it wasn't his place to judge him. The Dark Lord clearly did not recruit him for his impressive wit, but rather his impeccable ability to follow orders. Especially when those orders involved prolonged cruelty and death.

"Isabella, for once I can say you've really outdone yourself," he replied with a smirk, clapping a hand over his mouth as though to stop the outpour of laughter that threatened to burst forth. "Macnair and I, faithful servants of the Dark Lord? Tell me, love, do you really believe the word of every bloke that’s trying to shag you? Because even for you, this is impressive.”

Her hand, which had been reaching into the folds of his robes, shot back as if they had burned her. Her jaw dropped, stunned at the harshness of his words. He had spoke loudly enough to elicit snickers from those close enough to hear it and in turn, had drawn more attention to the conversation. On all sides of the table, sidelong glances were being shot, low mutters uttered amongst their fellow classmates.

His father had always said that those with the most to hide should hide in broad daylight.

"Are we lurking in the shadows of Potions class, trying to blow cauldrons up in the Gryffindors’ faces? Really? Are you really that gullible that you'd drop your skirt at the suggestion that Walden Mcnair was out offing mudbloods in between classes to defend your pureblood line when he can barely pass Charms?”

He shook his head and reached for his pumpkin juice, taking a long swig as laughter echoed down the table. Isabella’s face was bright red, flushed with embarrassment or anger, or both. She gathered her robes up in her hand and jumped off the bench.

Thomas almost felt bad for her as she stood, gaze darting back and forth at the amused faces judging her. They all knew enough about her to believe every word of it. Not one of them doubted for a moment that she would take any words uttered in passion as truth, especially when it came to the thought of her regaining some dignity after being tossed aside for a girl of lesser standing. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes before she shot off down the hallway and out of the Great Hall.

The spectacle was interrupted by the sudden flutter of wings and exuberant cries of the owls above, ready to deliver the daily post. Crisis averted for the time being.

He scanned the ceiling for his own owl before risking a glance back down the table. Andromeda's attention had settled back to the ceiling after Isabella's hasty departure, satisfied. Her hands were held out in front of her as she waited for her delivery to be dropped, confidence evident on her face as Narcissa whispered in her ear, laughing.

Thomas didn't even notice the unfamiliar brown owl swooping down with the Daily Prophet secured in its talons until it had practically landed in his plate. He eyed the delivery wearily as others tore into theirs, the crinkling of newspaper sounding across the hall as everyone shuffled through it, looking for the latest Quidditch news. Theirs were not tied up with black ribbon, as his was. He began flipping through the pages.

After a bit of searching, he found it. A scrap of parchment tucked neatly into the folds of the paper, so small it could have almost been missed. The neat scrawl appeared on it as though it was being written just as he was reading it and then was sucked back onto the page beneath it just as quickly.

_Your information has proven to be both insightful and helpful. Give our thanks to Lucius for assisting you in the correspondence. Help will be given in Hogsmeade. Watch for it._

He glanced over the top of his paper, surveying the inhabitants of the table, searching for his good friend before taking another calculated bite of his breakfast.

Lucius. No wonder he decided against making an appearance that morning.

He knew Thomas had sent little, if any information back to anyone regarding his assignment since school began, despite his assurances otherwise. He did just as he warned him he would.

Thomas shouldn't have been angry with him. Lucius was helping him do what needed to be done. He shouldn't have felt betrayed but he did, he was seething. He needed to know whom he addressed on the matter, what incriminating evidence he had sent to be reviewed by a jury that had already rested on a verdict and a sentence for Andromeda Black before he could even try to plead her case.

Lucius saw the clock when he came back the night before. He smelled her perfume, heavy on his clothes even hours after she had touched him. He had been waiting for this.

Thomas folded up the paper, unceremoniously tossing it onto the table in front of him, rubbing his eyes wearily as he tried his hardest to subdue the rage boiling in his chest. He was going to have to find Lucius and when he did, he didn't want to fly off the handle. That would only prove his suspicions right and lead to more correspondence on his behalf.

"It's a shame that the Prophet would even run such filth, don't you think?”

He turned to see Albert Runcorn's thin frame slump into the seat beside him. He pushed his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and dropped his own paper on the table between them, the corner of his lip pulled up in a sneer as he gestured to a full-page advertisement.

The faces of eight men Thomas knew quite well stared back at him, dressed in their finest robes. Typical political poses, reassuring smiles. He had seen them all out of the political sphere, he knew better than to trust their slogans and their speeches. Each one had blood on their hands and each one was working for a cause quite different than they led on in their campaigns.

**Avery  
** **Selwyn**  
**Lestrange**  
**Runcorn**  
**Greengrass**  
**Wilkes**  
**Mulciber**  
**Yaxley**

_These men hold public office, sworn to uphold the safety and sanctity of the Wizarding World. We voted them in to their posts to protect our interests and make decisions with proficiency and honesty. They make a mockery of all of us every day they are allowed to keep their positions. Each one of them participates in, or has given aid to the unspeakable crimes committed by this self-titled Dark Lord and his followers, and they are not alone in their crimes. Write to the Minister! Tell him you want the violence to stop and demand an inquiry made into the ties these families have to it. Speak up before you are silenced! Stop the Violence! Take back Wizarding England!_

"This is slander," Runcorn added, angrily. "Hopefully the public won't believe this garbage. It's an election year and Father can't afford press like this, even if it is from a bunch of deceitful mudbloods with no real grounds for such a claim. Even if they were all involved with the movement, and of course I'm not saying they are, how would anyone know?”

Because her family was sympathetic to the cause. Because her sister had pledged her life to the Dark Lord. Because she had seen their faces. Because they’ve been in her home, voices loud and tongues loose with whiskey in her father’s smoke room.

"It's probably a political move," Thomas muttered, eyes locked on the page. All along the table the cries of outrage were pouring out of his housemates as word of the accusations rolled down the table like a wave.

"Lucky your family's name didn’t make it on here, eh?" Albert offered before collecting his paper and clapping him on the shoulder. He stood from the bench to make his way back to his seat beside Evan, who was more than eager to share his outrage.

Andromeda hadn't lifted a finger to touch the paper. She wasn't looking back at Thomas. Through all the commotion, her eyes were locked with another pair of brown ones across the Hall, peering back at her from beneath shaggy blond hair.


	12. Comes and Goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Soundtrack: Comes and Goes - Greg Laswell

**Crossfire: Chapter Twelve**  
_Andromeda Black_

The chill that settled over Andromeda as she entered the Slytherin common room had nothing to do with the drafty dungeon air. It had followed her out of the Great Hall at breakfast, through the hallways and stairwells and into her classrooms.

As she stepped past the threshold she felt the hairs on her neck rise with every lingering look. She felt the narrowed gazes of her housemates and heard the distinct lull in the animated discussions she could hear taking place behind the stone from the entryway.

Tensions had been running high with Slytherin house all day, especially among the families that had been named in the Prophet. More than a few were spending the evening in detention after using their wands to demonstrate their displeasure with the jeering from the other houses that had ensued in the hallways. She had avoided the dungeons all day hoping that things would settle down but as she scanned the occupants of every table, couch, and chair looking for her sister, her cousin, any friendly face in the sea of accusation and suspicion. She found no one.

Andromeda stood still, drawing herself up with her shoulders back and her chin in the air. She channeled all the sharp lines and edges of her mother’s straight backed decisive posture and held the them along with her breath. She had heard the whispers all day. Someone in their midsts was rabble rousing, spilling secrets, naming names, and popular opinion was that someone was none other than the Black family traitor, herself. She waited for an accusation or a jeer, but none came and she had to assume it was only that family name that was preventing an inquisition.

She took a step forward, then another and was grabbed, rough and sudden from behind by an arm that encircled her waist and lifted her feet off the floor. A noise of surprise escaped her lips and her heart leapt in her chest before a familiar dulcet voice whispered in her ear, “You know, I think I’m starting to enjoy sneaking up on you…”

Thomas Nott’s warm breath hit her skin, his lips skirted the curve of her ear before coming to rest with playful force on the spot below it that made every hair on her arms stand up and her head to tip to her shoulder instinctively.

He placed her back down and she swung around to face him. He had just come from the pitch, still in his practice robes which were splattered with mud from the recent storm. His normally well kept hair was wind blown, sticking out in all directions. He smelled earthy, like sweat, grass, and evening air.

There had been errant gossip about their comfortable mannerisms; their tendency to stand just a bit closer to each other, speak just a little softer, gazes lingering a moment too long to be considered innocent. They had been very private thus far and everything felt precarious and delicate to her. The comfortable display of affection in front of a busy common room was not something she was expecting from him, especially at a time when her housemates’ distaste for her was almost palpable in the room.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she greeted, mimicking his words to her the night before. The phrase wasn’t lost on him. She watched his lips stretch into a mischievous smile as he leaned on his broom and regarded her, eyes sweeping down and back up.

“I couldn’t help but notice you were making an entrance,” he teased, pointedly scanning the room over her shoulder.

Andromeda resisted the urge to follow his gaze and felt her self assured poise beginning to falter as she shifted her weight out of nervousness. The last thing she wanted was for him to be on the receiving end of the same treatment, especially if that would be enough to turn him away from her. She began to back away and place some physical distance between the two of them as the thought made a stubborn heaviness form in her chest.

“It’s the letters,” she clarified quietly. “Everyone thinks…well, I’m sure you’ve heard. If you weren’t catching flack from your mates before, you’re sure to now.”

Thomas smirked. That small, clever tilt of the corner of his lips was becoming a regular sight to her now. As more of his teammates began to filter in the entranceway around them he reached out and draped an arm across her hip with his fingers firmly spreading across the small of her back. He pulled her into his side as he ushered them both forward with the crowd with a careless ease. It was a simple gesture, but one Andromeda was thankful for as the hostile expressions around her were momentarily replaced with sidelong curious glances.

“Not everything needs to be a battle,” he whispered in her ear as he directed her over toward the dormitory entrances. “I have to get out of these robes, I’m a mess. Do you think you can hold your own until I get back?”

“I’m just stopping by my dorm quickly, I told Ted I would meet him in the library before dinner to go over notes for the Potions exam,” Andromeda assured him.

“I’m thankful it’s Potions and not Astronomy,” Thomas mused. His hand which was still firmly planted on the small of her back ventured just a touch downward, enough to convey a possessive familiarity without appearing indecent.

Andromeda clicked her tongue at the suggestion but she found her feet shuffling closer to him, regardless. She heard his breath hitch as she crooked her fingers around the loose hanging ties of his practice robe and tugged them through their fastenings until the robe hung loosely on his shoulders.

“If you clean yourself up while I’m gone I wouldn’t be opposed to meeting you back here before dinner,” she offered.

Thomas stepped away and passed a hand through his tousled hair in a fruitless attempt to tame it before hoisting his broom over his shoulder. “Fair enough, go on then. I’ll be waiting here for you. Always a pleasure, Andromeda,”

“Call me Andi,” she found herself murmuring in reply.

Aside from family, Tonks was the only one who had adopted the nickname coined for her by her sisters, and even he had admitted it was only because her full name was a mouthful. Andromeda cared less and less for the pet name as she grew older. It only served as a reminder of a time when all the Black sisters had in the world was each other. The names used to be giggled, used with affection. Now, more often than not, it was used in frustration, admonishing and reproachful. But she had never heard it the way she had the night before; raw and reverent, full of admiration.

Something flashed in Thomas’ eye; a knowing gleam.

“Hurry back now, Andi.”

* * *

 

"So, how did noble old Slytherin house take to having their dirty laundry aired out all over Wizarding England?”

Across the table from her, Ted Tonks was draped lazily in his seat as he flipped through his dogeared textbook pages. He had pushed the chair onto its back two legs, his feet propped up on the table in front of him. As was customary for him, his yellow and black tie hung loosely at his chest, white sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He leaned back in a stretch before cushioning the back of his head with his hands and flashing her a brilliant grin.

"Not well, I’m sure you can imagine," Andromeda answered with a smirk. "And who can blame them? It was such an outrage, after all.”

“Scandalous,” he breathed, shaking his head in mock dismay. “Who do you think would do such a thing to those upstanding folks?”

The setting sun was shining through the library's dusty stain glass windows, spilling reds, blues, and greens across the deep mahogany of the table between them. Although they had settled themselves in a vacant spot; a dimly lit table nestled between two towering rows of books in the History of Magic section, she still shot him a look over the top of her own textbook.

Ted waved it off promptly.

"You worry too much, Andi. Nobody is in a rush to brush up on history, we’re alone. Besides we still have a few hours before most Slytherins will creep out of the dungeon. I hear they only come out in the dark to feed."

"That's my house I'll have you know," Andromeda shot back. She rested her foot against the leg of his chair, threatening to give it a push that would send him toppling back into the shelves behind him. "Besides, we're out in the day, you just don't see us. We're too busy skulking in the shadows.”

"You're no snake,” Ted replied as he placed all four legs of his chair and his feet back to the floor. He learned forward with his elbows on the table as a knowing smile spread across his face. "I bet the Sorting Hat had picked a different spot for you, you just begged it to put you in the dungeons so your Mum wouldn't have to be committed to Saint Mungos.”

”You underestimate me, I think.”

“Never.”

“I think I would rather have you in Hufflepuff, but we can’t all be so lucky, I suppose,” Ted retorted with a playful shrug of his shoulders.

“I would rather my house win a Quidditch match more than once a year,” she teased as she flipped a page. A self satisfied smile spread across her features as Ted’s mouth fell open in mock outrage.

“Oi, I resent that,” Ted huffed, “I’m starting Beater this year. You’ll be coming to the match next weekend to see, yeah?”

“Of course,” Andromeda confirmed. “But forgive me if I’m not waving a badger flag for you. You’re playing Slytherin.”

“Suit yourself, but I think you would look better in yellow,” Ted replied with a cheeky wink as he settled back into his seat.

“I thought you wanted to study for Potions not question my sorting,” she chided him. “Between you and my sister I swear I won’t learn a thing this term, I don’t know which one of you is a worse study partner."

"Maybe I’m more interested in getting you alone,” he countered as he thumbed through a few pages with reluctance before adding, "We used to at least have patrol nights together, now I feel like we hardly see each other.”

"Is undercutting the pureblood movement together not exciting enough for you?" she teased in a low voice. "I would think you'd enjoy meeting up for that over losing sleep to catch snagging couples in the bushes.”

"It has nothing to do with excitement, really," Ted mumbled as he averted his eyes back to his book. "Patrol duty wasn't exciting, that's why I liked it. It was fun just to talk with you, you know? Just spend time..."

“Ah..."

She followed his lead and promptly dropped her eyes back to her own book. She felt a pull in her heart, the same twinge of guilt she had when she walked past him in the Hospital Wing. She had hoped that she was reading too much into things that night. But now he was trying to tell her something that she didn't want to hear and he didn't want to say. So they both sat in silence, staring blankly at the words printed on their pages and not really reading them, fidgeting and thinking.

“So you’re with Nott now, eh?” Ted questioned. His tone seemed innocent enough, but when Andromeda risked a glance up at him he didn’t meet her gaze. His eyes clung stubbornly to the page in front of him and she found his face had a pained expression, as if he was steadying himself for the confirmation of his suspicions. His cheerful grin was no where to be found.

“Yes, for rounds on Thursdays,” Andromeda answered conversationally. She cleared her throat before adding, “And on Monday nights they’ve stuck me with-“

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Ted interrupted with a resolution in his voice that told her he already knew the answer. He closed the book in his lap and dropped it onto the table along with the pretenses of the conversation she had tried her best to keep up. “You took his father’s name off the letter.”

Andromeda opened her mouth to reply but hesitated, pressing her lips together in a tight lipped wince. She shifted in her seat as Ted’s brown eyes searched hers. The silence between them stretched on, uncomfortably heavy.

She liked Ted, she did. He was very warm and sweet and humble. She gravitated to that. Spending time with him was like a vacation from all the expectations that had to be met and formalities that needed to be observed at home and in the castle. He was one of the only people that she could truly just be herself with, without having to worry about anything. It was so nice to just breathe, and relax, and be.

Maybe it was selfish, but she really did not want to have a conversation about how Ted felt about her because she didn't want him to change the way he acted when they were together. She didn't want to lose the way he could lull her into just being carefree.

A part of her feared if she didn't get a chance to do that any more she wouldn't know the difference between who she really was and who she was supposed to be. Maybe he was worried about that too.

"There is something wrong about him, Andi."

“Don’t do this Ted,” she implored with a sigh, holding up a hand as if to halt any further words from him on the matter.

"I have to, I'm your friend,” Ted answered firmly. “And the only one you have that’s far enough outside your pureblood bubble to give you some perspective, I might add. I know you're not going to listen to me but I still had to say it. I don't trust him, I don't trust whatever it is he is trying to do and believe me, he's trying to do something.”

"You don’t even know him," Andromeda shot back.

”We’ve met.”

"Well then I don't know why you're saying such things," was her even reply. She waved a dismissive hand before tucking it back under her chin and averting her gaze out the window. Her other arm folded across her chest as she slumped back in the chair. It was a position her mother had always chided her was petulant, but one she caught herself adopting often in uncomfortable situations.

"Yes you do, Andi, he is everything you always complain to me about and you know it,” Ted exclaimed, that northern accent of his growing more pronounced the more emphatic he became. “He's everything you told me you hated. Everything that you told me hates you for that matter.”

Andromeda’s jaw clenched as she listened to him. Every word tumbled out of his mouth as though it had been churning around in his brain for days and now he finally had just the right combination of concern and inhibition to let it all loose at once.

“Did you ever stop to think about why he's going after you now?” Ted pressed, undeterred by her silence. “At the worst he's dangerous and at the very least he's just looking for another notch for himself.”

“Either way I don’t see how that’s any of your concern,” she finally snapped as she spun around in the seat to face him.

The words flew from her mouth unchecked and the bite in them surprised even her. She could tell by the way Ted’s resolution faltered and the concern disappeared from his eyes that the unspoken meaning in them had found its mark. Hurt spread clear as day across his features, in his furrowed brow, and stunned parted lips.

“Ted…I didn’t mean-“

Ted pushed his chair back, the scrape of the wood across the stone echoed pointedly down the empty section. “Well I bet your mother is just thrilled knowing you’re on your way to being the nice well bred little house wife she always wanted, believe me I wouldn’t dream of getting in the way of that.”

Andromeda drew in a quick breath as the sting of his words hit her like a slap in the face. She must have visibly blanched because Ted took one look at her and heaved a sigh before adopting a much quieter, more soothing tone.

"Look, I'm sorry that was out of line. I didn't mean to upset you. That's the last thing I wanted to do.”

“No, it’s fine, really,” she answered tightly as the stubborn burn of angry tears threatened to well up in her eyes. Her hands started fumbling through her bag, making room for all the parchment scrolls full of forgotten potions notes that had been scattered across the table.

Ted's hand flew forward and grabbed a hold of her wrist. Not aggressively or tightly, but the contact made her stop nonetheless. His brown eyes were locked on hers, pleading.

“Just forget I said anything, please. You’re right. It’s wasn’t my place.”

She nodded wordlessly and he let her go, his hands running over his face in frustration as he looked away.

“I’ll see you in Hogsmeade, Ted,” she managed as she threw her bag over her shoulder and pushed her chair back before rushing for the door. The towering rows of books flew past her as she tucked her head down and careened onto the third floor landing before making a beeline back to the dungeons.

Ted had every right to say what he did. There was no way she could have faulted him for it, no matter how much she wanted to.

Thomas Nott did not fit her plans. His blood was as pure as her own, his family as capable as hers, and he was as full of arrogance and privilege as any of them could be. Carrying on anything with him would only submerge her deeper in a life she thought she was trying to escape.

Which made her wonder if she really was trying to escape it at all, if all her resentment and desire to run from it had more to do with constantly feeling outcasted. Maybe deep down she had to admit that a small part of herself wanted desperately to be accepted again.

_“Not everything needs to be a battle…”_


	13. Born to Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter soundtrack: Born to Die - Lana Del Ray

**Crossfire: Chapter Thirteen**  
_Thomas Nott_

Thomas could hear the excited thumps and yells echoing from the common room as Slytherin House prepared for the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. It had started early that morning and had only grown louder and more animated as more students gathered and the time to start making their way out of the castle drew closer. In contrast, the seventh year boys' dormitory was deserted and tensely silent, as it had been the past few days.

Lucius had made it his mission to be inexplicably absent any time he was sure Thomas would be there, slipping in quietly once everyone had turned in and gone before anyone even stirred. Macnair had kept his distance since Isabella had caused her little scene over breakfast, likely convinced Thomas would hex his mouth permanently shut should he try to open it in his presence. Evan remained relatively cordial, but not especially talkative when Thomas was about. His unknowing compatriots that occupied the dorm with the four of them likely attributed the undertones of hostility to word of his involvement with Andromeda spreading like wildfire through the house and made their feelings known on the matter by keeping their distance from him as well.

Thomas hadn't seen any of them since they had left for breakfast that morning. He had declined Evan's invitation to eat with the Black clan and stayed behind. He wasn't feeling particularly hungry, nor was he looking forward to Hogsmeade as they were. While they were using the trip as a reprieve from the castle, he would be on the look out for help from the Dark Lord. Thomas wasn't sure what that meant or who the note was referring to but it was certain he would find out shortly and he had better be ready for it.

As he stood in front of the ornate full length mirror fixing the buttons of his cloak Thomas could feel his fingers trembling against them at the thought. He closed his eyes and took a breath. There could be no room for fear or nervousness today. He had found himself in a very precarious situation, one that held dire consequences should he take one misstep. There was so much to balance, one slip would send it all tumbling down on his head. He couldn't have that. Not when there was so much at stake, for himself and for Andromeda as well.

When Thomas opened his eyes he was surprised to come face to face with a second reflection in the mirror. Lucius Malfoy hovered in the doorway behind him in his fine black cloak, straight backed and silent. His cool grey eyes were calculating, studying him. His face showed no remorse, but Thomas never imagined it would.

"What an elusive little snake you've been lately, my friend.”

"I was thinking about escorting Narcissa and that blood traitor she calls her sister to Hogsmeade. I thought perhaps since you've gotten so close with the latter lately that you would care to join us," He proposed with a smirk as he closed the distance between them with a few steps but still lingered cautiously by the door.

"Did you now?" Thomas exclaimed as he turned around to face Lucius. "Ever the gentleman.”

"I also thought that my presence might help provide you with the opportunity to slip away unnoticed when the time comes," Lucius pressed, his thin lips pulling into a cruel smile. "If I'm not mistaken, you should be expecting a visitor.”

"You've been so helpful lately, Lucius. Going for sainthood, are we?”

"I only did what I warned you I would if you kept carrying on with that girl the way you are. That should have been no surprise to you. What is a surprise however, is your total disregard for your duties," Lucius replied evenly.

His cool demeanor did nothing but further fuel Thomas’ annoyance with him, something he was sure he knew. Lucius was the master of getting under your skin and in your head without even changing his tone or expression.

"I told you everything was under control," Thomas hissed, jabbing a finger at him for emphasis. "You just couldn't keep your nose out of it long enough to see that. These things take time.”

"Oh yes, Thomas. It certainly looks like you have everything under control," Lucius drawled. "If I'm not mistaken your charge was to find out if she was writing those letters and deliver her to the Dark Lord if it turned out to be true. I'm fairly sure carrying on with her every chance you get was not part of your assignment.”

"Checking up on me now, mate?" Thomas accused, crossing the stone floor to stand toe to toe with him. Lucius made no effort to back down, just lifted his head to stare down his nose at Thomas’ advance in his own arrogant way.

"I was coming back from the pitch, the same as you were last night," Lucius countered. "If I were you I would think about practicing a little more discretion with your disgusting little displays of affection.”

"That is exactly why you weren't chosen for this, Lucius. You wouldn't be able to sacrifice your own reputation because you're too damn arrogant to be successful," Thomas growled out just as quickly. "I'm only doing what I was asked to do, which was earn her trust. You remember that, yes? Subtlety, Malfoy, subtlety. She has to trust me. How many times do I have to go over this with you?”

"Then tell me why you didn't send word that she was behind this," Lucius demanded. "Why are you not involved in any discussion about how to stop these letters from happening? Why have you not done a damn thing that you've agreed to do since you've stepped foot in this castle? You were protecting her, just admit it!”

Thomas turned away from him to face the mirror again, adjusting his collar and fidgeting with his cuffs. He couldn't look Lucius in the eye anymore. His words sounded hollow to his own ears and he had no answers for his friend’s questions that wouldn't serve to incriminate him further. In the reflection Thomas watched Lucius arch his brow, amusement spreading across his face before bursting out in laughter. His hands raised in front of him and he began a slow clap.

"Bravo, Thomas, very good indeed. Do you even know where your facade ends and your reality begins anymore? The lies just keep coming from you, but I am not the one that you should be lying to. I'm your friend, we are in this together. We took an oath. Does that mean nothing to you now?”

"Of course it means something. I'm just trying to find a different outcome,” Thomas finally replied, whipping back around to face him with hands held out at his sides in surrender. "That's all.”

Lucius must have appreciated the honest answer. He stepped forward and clapped a hand on Thomas’ shoulder firmly. His deadpan eyes bore right into Thomas’ gravely, as if he was trying to convey how dire the circumstances of today would be with them alone. No words were necessary for that. It was a feeling that hummed between them that they both understood. The same feeling that accompanied the sharp sudden burn of their forearms and the notion that nothing would ever be the same. They could argue later.

"The girls are waiting," Lucius muttered. "Let's go."

The streets of Hogsmeade were as unassuming as ever. No snow had fallen to gather on the thatched roofs yet, although the cold chill that stubbornly clung to the air certainly threatened that it could at any moment. It was a refreshing cold, the kind that buzzed with its own energy to match that of the students that had flooded the streets and shops of the little village.

Thomas never understood what the draw was to Hogsmeade, other than it being the only all wizarding village in Britain. Everyone would always go on about how quaint and charming the little town was. It was just an escape from the castle, a place the staff let them loose upon on some weekends. Where professors went to drink some firewhiskey, mingle with society outside of academia, and get away from students for a while.

Unfortunately for them, on Hogsmeade weekends there was no getting away from them. Even those like himself that failed to fall under the spell of the little village still made the trip there anyway, just for the change of scenery. The High Street belonged to them. The locals tended to avoid the haunts of the Hogwarts students on that stretch such as Zonkos and the Three Broomsticks when they came to town. Thomas couldn't really blame them.

Everyone had left the castle in a throng, some rushing along the pathway to the village at a running pace and others leisurely wandering down to join them, in no hurry to waste the day. Thomas’ envoy had chosen the latter method. He and Lucius kept a deliberate unhurried pace, Andromeda and Narcissa between them.

While the trip had began with some energetic and animated conversations, the closer the group got to Hogsmeade the more sober and alert Lucius and Thomas had become. They were on guard, tense. It was maddening being on the look out, but having no idea what he was supposed to be looking for. It had both of them on edge despite their best efforts to appear to be enjoying a carefree weekend outside.

Narcissa remained as quiet as she always was while in the presence of Lucius, all smiles and nods. Andromeda had tried on a number of occasions to liven up the mood during that time but as they approached High Street even she had adopted the heavy silence that had fallen over them all.  
"Bit chilly, eh?" she finally ventured as she huddled up closer against Thomas. Even through all the layers he could feel the curve of her thin frame against his and he slipped an arm around her back to pull her closer.

Thomas had avoided her gaze since leaving the castle but he turned his head to her then. She had donned a cream, full length coat with a grey fur cap pulled down over her ears. Her dark hair spilled out from beneath it onto her shoulders in stark comparison. Her normally pale cheeks were bright red from the cold. Her expression was bright, even a bit mischievous as she settled against his side, brown eyes sparkling. She looked like she was made for this weather. She looked beautiful. Beautiful enough to distract him.

Out of the corner of his vision Thomas saw the swirl of black robes before he felt the impact. A man about his size had collided with his opposite shoulder with enough force to jolt Andromeda into her sister. His robes were elegant, far too elegant for a day trip to Hogsmeade. The hood of his cloak was pulled over his head so that even in the daylight, his features were cast in its shadow. He reeled back a step before wrapping his hand tightly around Thomas’ forearm, directly over his mark as if to steady himself. He made no apology, spoke no words as he continued past.

As Lucius ushered the girls forward Thomas whipped his head back to the man. He stood there in the road, watching them go before motioning with his head into the dense thicket of trees off to the side of the path and disappeared into them. He was the sign, his help.

"Shall we find ourselves a table at the Three Broomsticks, ladies? The good ones tend to fill up quickly," Lucius suggested as Thomas turned back around, straightening up and swallowing hard.

He had seen. Although he had proposed the question to the girls his eyes were on Thomas’. His lips were set in a thin line and his gaze darted between him and the woods behind them for a moment before settling on Narcissa and Andromeda innocently.

"You all go ahead, I've got to stop in Dervish and Banges and pick up some cauldron cleaner. Thing is so covered in muck nothing will boil properly anymore. No sense in holding you up. Order me a butterbeer and I'll find you when I'm finished," Thomas urged, finding Andromeda's hand and giving it a small squeeze.

Luckily the gesture surprised her enough to quell any protest she had about being left alone with Lucius and her sister. She grudgingly followed along at Narcissa's side, pointedly ignoring Lucius' offer of his free arm to her as he led them both away. Thomas watched them disappear in the bustle of the street before he slipped off the cobblestone pathway and into the woods.

The further he pressed into the dense brush the fainter the commotion from the village became. Soon the laughter and shouting was replaced by the unnervingly loud crunching of the fallen leaves beneath his feet and the calls of the birds in the twisted branches above him.

Thomas had walked a good distance before he found that his messenger was waiting for him. The man’s stocky form leaned lazily against the trunk of a gnarled oak tree. His hood had fallen back to reveal the mop of dark curls it had been hiding. The familiar face was covered in a neatly trimmed beard and a sly smile slid onto his lips as he watched Thomas approach, extending his hand in welcome.

"Rodolphus Lestrange, I must say I have never been more relieved to see you," Thomas breathed as he swatted a low lying branch from his path and reached out to shake his hand, his free arm pulling Rodolphus into a solid embrace. "I take it you are the help I'm supposed to be receiving.”

"Don't look so relieved. Help is a relative term," Rodolphus replied with a gruff laugh. "Especially when you consider who it is coming from. But for all intents and purposes, yes. I was sent here to provide you with some assistance.”

"Well, let's have it, then," Thomas prodded eagerly.

Rodolphus passed a hand over his chin thoughtfully as he straightened his posture. The smile he had greeted him with slipped away, replaced by a stern gaze and a tightly clenched jaw.

"You're in over your head, my friend.”

"What do you mean?" Thomas demanded, "I've retrieved valuable information. I've shown more than enough progress and I think I've proven myself more than capable of-“

"He knows, Thomas," Rodolphus interrupted, throwing his hands up in the air between them to halt the well rehearsed explanations. "So please, save me your bluffing. I didn't come all this way to be lied to. He's in your head. He's in all of our heads and he can pick things out if you don't keep your guard up. He senses your hesitation."  
Thomas felt an icy tightness grip his chest, stealing the air from his lungs. He could do nothing but stare blankly back for a moment as the gravity of his words registered in his mind.

"He wants me to let you know that he doesn't want to kill the girl," Rodolphus continued, eyes scanning the empty forest vigilantly. "That goes against what he is trying to accomplish. The Black family blood is some of the purest around these days and spilling it will serve to be little more than a waste. The pureblood movement doesn't need to tangle up the limbs of its family tree any more than it already has.”

"So she's safe then?" Thomas asked, cautiously.

Rodolphus shook his head.

"I didn't say that. I said she is of more use to the Dark Lord alive than she is dead but that's only if she stops the nonsense she's been carrying on with and falls in line. Blood traitor is only second to mudblood and there is no room for either in the future we are building and she needs to see that. If she runs off with a muggle born what good is she to the movement then, you know? But lucky for her she took your bait, so he wants you to know that he is going to give her a chance to stop all of this.”

Thomas’ reply was interrupted by a deep, ominous rumble in the sky above. The heavy white clouds were quickly adopting a dense, smokey darkness that blocked out the few lazy rays of sunlight that had made it to them. From out of the hazy billows the skull emerged with a clap of thunder so loud it shook Thomas to his core as the snake lazily crawled from the open mouth.

Then the screaming started.

“Ah...my Bellatrix is a lot of things, but patient isn’t one of them, I’m afraid,” Rodolphus gushed as he stepped forward to put a hand on Thomas’ shoulder. He through the trees at the faint cracks of green and red light exploding in the distance.

"What's all this, Rodolphus?” Thomas demanded as his hand flew to the folds of his robes to grip his wand.

“I said the Dark Lord is willing to consider sparing Andromeda for her treasons, but that doesn't mean he's feeling particularly forgiving about all those that helped spread her little publications, or those who support them,” he replied with a smile. "So he sent Bellatrix with some new recruits to make his feelings on the matter known. I suggest you stay clear of the Three Broomsticks and find your way indoors elsewhere.”

Rodolphus stepped back from Thomas, pulling his hood over his head and with a wave of his wand that familiar faceless mask clung brazenly to his face. With a crack he was gone from his side.

Thomas ran, pushing through the brush as fast as his legs would take him. His heart was racing, his pulse pounding in his ears, drowning out the explosions of curses hurled back and forth and the terrified cries that grew louder the closer he came to High Street. The tree limbs and branches caught his cloak and scratched his face as if trying to slow me down, but he didn't give notice.

He finally burst out of the tree line onto the main road with his wand drawn and skidded to an abrupt stop. The aftermath of the Dark Lord's message delivery was laid out before him. Store fronts were still smoldering black from the impact of curses that had missed their mark. A few of the townspeople lay, sprawled where they had fallen when they had taken up their wands to defend themselves. Others peeked out of the cracks of doors or windows to see if it was safe to come out of their sanctuaries.

Thomas continued passed all of it to where the crowd of silent, wide eyed students had gathered outside of the Three Broomsticks. Some were openly sobbing, clutching each other. Some had faces and clothing that were covered in soot. They were all watching the flames as they exploded out of the shattered windows and licked up the wooden beams of the tavern as the fire within roared with the heat and vengeance of hell.

"Thomas! Thomas!”

He pushed through the masses toward the sound of his voice being called over the crackling inferno until he found them. Lucius Malfoy stood toward the back of the crowd, eyeing him warily. Narcissa, on the other hand, had her eyes glued on the building. Her hands were clenched over her mouth, tears streaming from her blue eyes as she leaned against Lucius as though she would fall to her knees sobbing if he wasn't keeping her upright.

"What happened in there? Where is Andromeda?" Thomas demanded, grabbing Lucius by the shoulder roughly.  


The question only made Narcissa cry harder in response and she turned her face from him, burying her head in Lucius' chest. His arms wrapped around her and he turned his head to Thomas, stone faced.

"They came into the tavern...split everyone up. They kept the Muggleborns inside the building, took their wands, and set fire to the whole place. Everyone else had time to get out the door before everything went up in flames. The professors are in there now, trying to get the fires out,” he replied quietly.

"So then why isn’t she still with you?"

"She wasn’t with us, Thomas. She was sitting with Tonks.”


	14. Eyes on Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter soundtrack: Eyes On Fire - Blue Foundation

**Crossfire: Chapter Fourteen**

_Andromeda Black_

“Is this seat taken?”

Andromeda’s fingers lingered on the back of the old wooden chair in question as Ted’s eyes met hers over the top of his Daily Prophet. 

He had claimed a table in front of the fireplace and sat sideways with his back against the stone, his shoes propped up on the chair beside him. He seemed startled at the sight of her, but swung his feet back to the floor and reached over to dust the seat off with his hand before gesturing for her to sit.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” she added as she gave the pair of butter beers she clutched in her opposite hand a shake for emphasis.

 _“What do you miss most when you’re on holiday?”_ she had asked him once as they strolled the castle on patrol.

 _“Oh, that’s easy. Butter beer,”_ he had answered decisively, _“I wait for it all summer. There’s nothing like the first butter beer of the year.”_

Ted nodded silently with a tight lipped smile as she slid the tankard across the table into his waiting hands and placed hers in front of the seat. She couldn’t help but notice the apprehension on his face as she shook her hair loose from her cap and shrugged out of her coat. He reached out and took them both from her arms anyway, laying them on the back of her chair and pulling it away from the table as she slipped in beside him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of a skirt,” Ted mused as he took her in with a flicker of a appreciation on his features. 

Andromeda glanced down at her pants and smirked, running her fingers reverently along the pleat in the soft black fabric. “I’m not allowed to wear them at home. I bought them on holiday in France this summer and I’ve been dying to put them on.”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to wear pants?” Ted asked incredulously. “Is wizard fashion stuck back in the 1940s?”

“Because it’s apparently not proper for a lady to show everyone the whole curve of her arse,” she answered plainly.

The admission made Ted burst out with laughter and Andromeda grinned as she saw the tightness in his face ease up a bit.

“Well, cheers to that,” Ted offered as he clinked his mug with hers and leaned back in his seat to take a long hearty sip.

“Cheers.”

She took a moment to look him over. It had been some time since she had seen him outside of his his familiar uniform and the change in his dress always took her by surprise. Even in his muggle clothing he still sported the yellow and black of his house in a well worn striped sweater and blue jeans. He looked relaxed and natural in them, especially with his riotous mop of blonde curls swept every which way by the wind. There was always something intimate and warm she felt seeing him out of his posh school robes, some glimpse at an unfamiliar peacefulness she knew nothing about.   

She turned her head to eye the table by the door where Lucius and Narcissa had hung their coats and the feeling evaporated promptly. Even on a day where she was free to let her hair down a bit, Narcissa dressed like she would bump into the Minister himself in her prim blue shirtwaist dress. Lucius, of course, had dressed fit to have her on his arm in his usual stuffy black button up and vest inlayed with silver.

Her sister had returned with drinks in hand. The Three Broomsticks was busy, but not enough as to allow Andromeda to slip away unnoticed. Narcissa stood by Lucius, scanning the room with a frown tugging on her lips when their gazes met. She gave Andromeda a pointed look before shaking her head and dropping into her seat with a huff, leaning into Lucius to whisper her displeasure.

Andromeda turned her back when Lucius’ hard grey eyes met hers and found that Ted had been watching the exchange with a faux innocent smile on his face. He raised his mug to Lucius with a friendly wave of his free hand and gave a snort of laughter at what she was sure was an icy response from the pair.

“Your sister and Malfoy are just as pleasant as ever,” he noted.

Andromeda clicked her tongue at him before taking a sip from her own drink.

“I would expect nothing less, but you still shouldn’t goad them.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ted teased with a light hearted bump with his shoulder.

“It won’t be fun when Lucius hexes you for it later,” she warned. “He’s not above catching you alone when your back is turned. He’s not above much, to be honest.”

“Fine, fine,” Ted grumbled. “I don’t know how you stand it down there in the dungeons with the lot of them, miserable gits.” 

“It’s not all bad,” she shrugged. In truth it had become a bit more bearable as of late. Thomas’ presence had seemed to quell most of the blatant hostility she had become accustomed to in the dormitory. Lately even when she wasn’t on his arm or tucked into his side on the couch, the same housemates who had pointedly ignored her or spurned her in the past greeted her with a nod or a passing pleasantry. Not that Ted wanted to hear any of that. He arched a brow at the admission to which she hastily added, “Just mostly.”

“It’s good to see I’m still better company,” Ted mused as his fingers drummed an absent rhythm on the table. “I have to be honest, I didn’t think I was going to see much of you today.”

“I told you I would see you in Hogsmeade,” she answered lamely.

“You did, and you also told me to sod off in so many words before you ran out,” Ted replied. “Sorry if I didn’t have high hopes that you would seek me out for a chat.”

“I would never tell you to sod off, Ted,” Andromeda huffed. 

“Of course not, you’re too well mannered for all of that.”

Ted’s tone was benign enough but the words harkened back to his earlier admonishment of her and flared her temper despite herself.

“Yes, what would my mother think?” she retorted. 

Her eyes narrowed, studying his face for any betrayal of hostility or bitterness he might have been harboring for her after their exchange in the library. 

Ted leaned back in his seat with a sigh, a sullen expression replacing his previous impassivity.

“Look, I know things aren’t easy for you…I know there are things that are expected of you that I don’t try to understand,” Ted paused, his brows knitting together as he struggled with his choice of words. His fingers found her hand and he laced them with hers with a soft squeeze. “I know you’re doing the best you can to make everyone happy, including yourself. I’m not trying to make that harder for you, believe me.” 

“I know you had good intentions, Ted, I don’t fault you for it,” Andromeda answered, her eyes locked on Ted’s hand in hers. His thumb played lightly across the back of her hand. The touch was warm and the familiarity of it brought a sense of comfort but also caused her belly to flip suddenly.

“Besides,” she added, “I wasn’t exactly kind to you either.”

Ted opened his mouth to reply but the words died on his tongue.

Andromeda could swear she felt the reverberation of the the magic in the moment before the door and windows of the Three Broomsticks exploded, splintering wood and shattering glass. The sound echoed down the road as one by one, storefronts and restaurants burst into rubble.

The force of it rocked Andromeda forward, her elbows hit the table as her hands instinctively locked over her head. For a moment there was nothing but a terrible silence as the debris rained down upon their heads. Then came the screaming. Everything around her seemed to slow, then stop as she lifted her head and scanned the street outside.

Through the thick plumes of smoke and ash Andromeda saw the streaks of curses, angry flares of red, green, and purple bursting from wand tips like lightening rolling through a dark cloud up and down the street. She heard the steady _crack…crack…crack_ of people apparating and disapparating in swirls of black cloaks.

They swept into the gaping hole where the doorframe once stood like a crashing wave, each one hooded, cloaked, and masked, each in billowing, heavy black robes. Each moved in disciplined step as they spread out through the tavern. It happened so fast, so synchronized that for a moment everyone remained still in stunned silence.

Behind them strolled a woman, small in stature but her presence was anything but. She twirled her wand aimlessly between her fingers as she wandered behind the bar. She stepped aside indifferently for the pair of figures who dragged Madame Rosmerta, kicking and shouting, from behind the bar and out into the street. 

The woman hopped up on the bar top and spread herself out languidly as she watched the chaos unfold before her. Her mask caught the light steaming in through the dust and Andromeda noted the detail of it. It had obviously been crafted with care to emphasize a pair of high cheek bones with elaborate silver inlays in swooping designs covering a feminine face.

“Wands on the tables,” a booming voice demanded, tearing her attention back to the rising tumult around her. The command rose above the confusion as shocked students at the tables around them began to regain their senses. Most had barely had time to reach into their pockets or jump from their seats before the Death Eaters descended upon them. “On the tables, or we’ll pry them off your bloody corpses!” 

“Jesus,” she heard Ted breathe. He was already half out of his seat with one hand clutching his wand, the other steadying himself on the back of his chair. His eyes darted frantically around the room as the mob of black figures surged closer. “What’s happening?”

“Death Eaters…”

She trailed off as she caught sight of one imposing figure with his attention turned to their corner table approaching quickly. Andromeda reached into her pocket and slammed her own wand down on the table before tugging Ted back down beside her. She made a grab for his wand but he wrenched his arm back.

“Do what he says, Ted, listen to me,” she implored as she reached for him again. He stared at her, unconvinced, and hesitated only a moment before he allowed her to peel back his fingers from the wand hilt. She placed it on the table beside hers just in time to have them both fly out from beneath her grasp.

Andromeda swallowed hard and finally lifted her gaze from Ted’s clenched jaw to the cloaked figure hovering over their table, their wands held tight in his hand. He donned the same inky black cloak as his companions with the oversized hood drawn over his head. The man’s mask lacked the detail of the woman’s at the bar. His was an expressionless mockery of a face with no humanity in the dark eyes peering out from the gaping holes of the skull. She could see his lips pressed in a bloodless line behind the grotesque mouth of the mask which gave the illusion of being sewn shut with angular metal bars spread evenly across the length of it. 

“Name.”

The order was barked out imperiously as Andromeda watched their wands disappear into his cloak. The man leaned forward to grip the edge of the table, bringing that unnerving, faceless visage even closer. He was staring right past her, honed in on Ted and his painfully obvious Muggle clothing.

Beside her Ted stiffened in his seat.

“Te-“

“Edgar Bones,” Andromeda interrupted. Her heart pounded erratically in her chest as the man’s head snapped toward her with a quickness she could only describe as snakelike. He regarded her silently for a moment with eyes narrowed and his head tilted almost patronizingly to the side. 

“I don’t recall asking you to speak.” 

His voice came back at her as a low, threatening growl, thick with a Russian accent. As he rounded on her she saw the grip on his wand tighten pointedly.

Beneath the table, Ted’s hand found her knee and gave it a firm squeeze in warning. 

“All the same,” Andromeda forced out, cursing the tremor in her voice as she fought to keep her tone even. “That’s Edgar Bones and he’s a half blood.”

As the Death Eater hunched over her seated form, Andromeda could feel the malevolence radiating off of him. The small space between them hummed with it, heavy and dangerous. She sensed him press into her mind like an intrusion of fingers as he tried to thumb through her thoughts like a magazine. 

_Walking in step down the halls of Hogwarts laughing, Ted on the platform with his mother, playing cards on the train…_

She closed her eyes against it and willed him out.

With a snarl he lashed out with his foot and connected with the leg of her chair, almost knocking it out from under her. Before she could react he had caught her firmly by the chin with his hand and lifted her to her feet.

Behind her, Ted’s chair scraped the floor as he stood, but with a slash of the man’s wand she heard him slump back down with a groan. Andromeda tried to turn her head back but the Death Eater tightened his hold as he peered down at her.

“Then tell me, who would that make you, _kotyonok_?” he asked. His voice adopted a curious lilt and she thought she saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He jerked her closer until their fronts touched. The tip of his wand came to rest on her lips softly, in stark comparison to the punishing pressure of his thumb and forefinger on her jaw. “And this time _,_ I would advise you not to lie to me.”

“Stop, that’s my sister!”

From across the tavern Narcissa’s piercing voice rang out, rising above the din of bedlam around them as the Death Eater’s dragged students from their chairs and shoved them this way and that. 

Andromeda could just see them out of the corner of her eye. Lucius stood behind her sister with an arm firmly around her shoulders as he lead her toward the door amid a throng of pure and half bloods. Narcissa struggled against him as he moved her forward, shrieking, “Get your hands off of her, she’s a Black! That’s Andromeda Black.”

Realization dawned in the Death Eater’s eyes and through the slits in the mask Andromeda saw the corners of his lips lift up in a small rigid smile. He turned from her, meeting the eyes of the woman at the bar. She had been levitating bottles from the shelves behind her and letting them smash on the floor impassively, but now her attention was drawn to the pair of them. Slowly, almost imperceptibly she nodded her head once.

Andromeda moved quickly as he faced away. Her hand delved into the folds of his cloak, searching with a trembling hand until she found it. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of a wand nestled within an inner pocket. It was Ted’s wand, she could tell by the feel but it was better than nothing. Carefully she lifted it, working it up the sleeve of her shirt with small, nibble movements of her fingers until the length of it rested safely against her forearm, secured by the button at her cuff.

“Black,” the man repeated with a rumble of a laugh as he turned back to her. “Now that is a name I know well. But tell me _,_ what would a Black daughter be doing sharing a table with mudblood filth? Perhaps there is some mistake?”

“No mistake,” Andromeda spat back. Her lip twitched in a defiant sneer but she knew he could feel her body rattling against him beneath the thin fabric of her blouse. Beneath the mask his eyes moved calculatingly over her face and downward.

“Shame,” he tutted as his free hand snatched up Ted’s discarded Daily Prophet from the table. He held it up in front of her face and Andromeda broke her gaze despite herself. She turned to see the familiar faces of the politicians she had named grinning back at her from the pages, as if it pleased them to see her punished for her part in their disgrace.

“Interesting article. A bit self righteous for my tastes, though,” the Death Eater breathed in her ear as he released her chin and stepped behind her. His hands fell heavy on her shoulders and his finger tips dug firmly into her skin as he directed her to look at the spectacle around them. “But it hardly seems worth it now, no?”

When she didn’t reply he released her with a shove forward and Andromeda dropped to her knees on the floor beside Ted’s crumpled form. He had landed like a tossed rag doll, body slumped on his side, with limbs askew and when she turned him onto his back her stomach dropped at how lifelessly his head lolled with the movement.

“Ted…Ted! Look at me, please, please,” she pleaded as she clutched the fabric of his sweater and gave him a hard shake. His eyes remained closed, but his lips parted and she could see the sharp rise and fall of his broad chest as he drew in rasping, pained breaths. Relief flooded over her and her hands loosened their grip and flew to cup his cheeks. Beneath them, his face contorted in a painful grimace.

“You have to get up, Ted. Come on, I’m not leaving you here.”

Above her the Death Eater gave a derisive snort. Andromeda tore her eyes off Ted as the man crouched down, his masked face hovering inches above her own.

“You don’t have to die here, girl,” he rasped as he gestured to Ted’s body between them indifferently. “Not for this. Get up, and I’ll see you outside to your sister.”

Andromeda glanced past him as his compatriots ushered the last few students out of the hole where the door once was. The shouts and screams still sounded amidst the curses and counters being flung outside, but the Three Broomsticks was eerily quiet save for the frightened sobs of the few muggle born students unlucky enough to remain and the purposeful footsteps of the Death Eaters herding them to the back of the inn.

She met the gaze of the woman at the bar top. She was watching the exchange with interest as the remaining friends spilled out onto the streets outside to join the frey. Her hood and mask made her features indistinguishable save for her eyes, blown black with anticipation and excitement. 

“Bella?” Andromeda called out hesitantly and flinched at the sound of her cracked voice. She swallowed dryly and searched those eyes, pleading, for any hint of recognition. She found nothing but a cold, menacing stare in return. 

“Bella…if that’s you, please…”

“It’s not too late,” the man interrupted, drawing her attention back to him. He tucked the Prophet into his shoulder and extended his hand to her.

Andromeda felt every painful second tick by as she was frozen in motionless, breathless suspense. With Ted’s wand in her sleeve she stood only a ghost of a chance. If he leveled a killing curse at her in that instant there would be little she could do to stop it. Her fingers twitched against Ted’s skin, as if every ounce of her self preservation was screaming at her brain to lift her hand and take what was offered.

“No.”

The word that slipped past her lips was almost a whisper, so low that she thought that he might have missed it. But his eyes narrowed and he wordlessly stood to his full height and turned away from her. In three strides he was back at the bar top as the woman dropped back to her feet and gave him a nod. 

Andromeda watched as the Death Eater tossed the paper overhead and raised his wand. The thin pieces of parchment spread apart, catching in the air and floating with an almost ethereal ease before beginning their slow descent..

_“Incendio!”_

Andromeda shot to her feet as the sheets of parchment burst into flames. Twisted and blackened, they plummeted to the ground, a shower of crackling embers rained onto the alcohol soaked floor boards.

With a w _hoosh_ , the fire roared to life in a wash of red, yellow, and blue. It rolled outward, devouring the spilled contents of the shattered bottles greedily. It wound up the tables and chairs in their path and licked up the walls almost instantaneously. The old wood cracked and and spit out angry black smoke that quickly settled in the air in a heavy, choking veil.

Through the flames and smoke and ash, Andromeda watched the last two Death Eaters. She heard the woman laugh, a frenzied, mirthless laugh that made her feel as though she had been doused with cold water. A familiar laugh. With a black, bowed wand she muttered incantations and the flames leapt in the air. Swirling, they formed the long thin form of a snake, hissing and spitting.

She saw them leave side by side through the crater in the wall they created, leaving them trapped, to be swallowed up by the blaze that barred their escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this took forever to come out. Up until this chapter I've been rewriting a previous work, so this is the first thing I've published in years. I was frustrated and felt like I had lost my touch when it came to writing. I probably redid it about fifteen times but I'm finally pleased with the result and feeling a better flow so updates should come a bit more regular. As always, thank you for reading and any comments or criticisms are appreciated!


	15. My Head is a Jungle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Soundtrack: Jungle - Emma Louise

Crossfire: Chapter Fifteen  
Thomas Nott

Thick black plumes rose above the Three Broomsticks, mingling with the skull and snake that stubbornly hung in the cloudless sky above. The heat was oppressive even from where Thomas stood with ash raining down into his eyes, coating his hair like a dreary grey snowfall.

The street was deadly quiet despite it all. The silence was more unnerving than any of the screams or shocking noises that had sounded only moments before. Thomas could hear every sniffle and stifled cry, every tense whisper. 

He had watched professors, aurors, and townspeople disappear into the smoldering shell of the inn with their wands raised. None had emerged. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he had left Rodolphus in the tree line. Each second that ticked by felt like minutes, minutes stretched on like hours.

The tenseness was only punctuated by the arrival and departure of Ministry officials. The aurors had been the first on the scene, but his brothers had been long gone by the time word had reached London. The attack had been quick and precise. The destruction rolled out from the Three Broomsticks like a wave, the splintered storefronts and covered bodies in the streets offering a testimony of the Death Eaters’ message in the wake of their departure.

A small crowd of students had resisted the repeated instructions to wait for word within the safety of the school’s walls and instead lingered listlessly outside of the tavern. Most held their hands or scarves clamped over their mouths, a barrier to protect them against the thick, acrid smoke that still billowed from the holes left in the front of the building. The apprehension etched on their faces mirrored Thomas’ thoughts.

No one could have survived that, not without their wands. Not without the magic the Dark Lord believed they stole, the magic they were unworthy of.

He was sure that was why the Death Eaters chose fire instead of a killing curse; so they would die like muggles, panicked and helpless without the one thing that gave them power. Everyone left inside had been muggleborn. 

Everyone save for Andromeda Black.

A heavy pressing something clenched his guts, twisting violently.

Lucius’ eyes were on him, Thomas knew. He felt them on his back as he stalked back and forth in front of the tavern like a caged animal. Broken glass crunched beneath his feet, punctuating each heavy step. 

His friend had been huddled close with Narcissa and Evan Rosier, the only other Slytherins that remained behind and had not retreated back to the castle. None of his other housemates would be missing anyone important enough to wait for word on, not with the aurors sniffing about. They were conspicuously out of place in the throng of onlookers. Three restless wolves lingering among a herd of terrified sheep after a slaughter.

Thomas slowed in the tracks he was wearing in the stone and came to a stop when Lucius finally turned his back on the pair and approached him. A ghost of a smile threatened the corners of his lips the closer he came, a smile that radiated carelessness and cruelty.

“Evan doesn’t seem to understand why you found it so difficult to chaperone one schoolgirl girl for an afternoon. I told him it was probably in his best interest to ask you another time.” 

The levity in his tone pricked Thomas’ already frayed nerves but the truth in the banter made guilt rise like bile in his throat. She wouldn’t have been sitting with that damned mudblood if he hadn’t left her. He wouldn’t have had to leave her if he had kept his mouth shut about her letters.

“If you’re just here to get a rise out of me then piss off,” Thomas warned through gritted teeth. He moved to shoulder past him with a wordless rumble of warning that Lucius didn’t head. 

“You need to remember yourself,” Lucius hissed as he caught Thomas by the arm and planted himself firmly in his path. “There are eyes everywhere and you’re drawing attention.” 

Thomas didn’t care. He wanted to scream, hit him, hex him, something, anything. But despite the tumult of too many thoughts and feelings swirling in his head, or more likely because of it, he stilled.

“You’re sure she didn’t leave?” Thomas finally asked, “You saw her?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Lucius released his grip on his arm but remained where he stood, almost chest to chest with him. He scanned their surroundings attentively and his weight shifted before he answered in a hushed tone.

“It didn’t seem like she was being particularly cooperative at the time.”

“Meaning?” Thomas pressed.

“Meaning she had a hand around her throat and a wand in her face when I left. Tonks was already on the floor and it looked like she was next in line for the same. They were both likely dead when the fire started. A small mercy you should thank our brother for later.”

Thomas would have snorted at the suggestion, but Lucius was deadly serious. His admission was deliberately cold and toneless, but the words sliced through the air between them and landed in Thomas’ chest like a curse all the same.

As Lucius’ grey eyes watched him impassively, Thomas felt the blood drain from his face.

“Who was it?” he asked lowly.

“I didn’t recognize him,” Lucius replied indifferently. “Bellatrix was the only one I knew for sure, you know how she likes to make a spectacle.”

“Maybe they took her back with them,” Thomas mused. He was grasping at straws, he knew, but couldn’t help himself. 

Lucius looked away from him, back to the blackened front of the inn. “She would have had better odds with the fire.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” Thomas didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or Lucius, but the words poured out regardless. “I had everything under control. She wasn’t supposed to be there. She was going to be forgiven if-”

“If what?” Lucius interrupted him, his tone incredulous. Thomas’ mouth slammed shut in resignation, but Lucius continued. “If what, Thomas? Tell me. She started acting like a Black for once in her life? Here, a few months from now, years even. Sooner or later she would have run out of favor. You weren’t going to control her, and she obviously couldn’t control herself.” 

Thomas swallowed dryly. His reply was weak and unconvincing even to his own ears. “She would have been fine. I just needed more time.”

“Did you really think that she would have anything to do with you after she found out about that mark on your arm?” Lucius huffed and shook his head. “That was never going to happen. It was always going to end like this, you’ve known that from the beginning. Still, you tried, which was admirable. But it ends here, as it should.”

Thomas didn’t answer. It was always going to end like this. But he still wasn’t prepared for it. He wasn’t prepared to feel this way when he thought of her final moments, staring up in fear at a figure dressed so familiarly, masked, cloaked, robed. Not when she had just been tucked into his side, grinning up at him with flushed cheeks and that fond look in those wide brown eyes.

Thomas was jarred from his thoughts as a clamor rose through the crowd, a dull roar of excited murmurs as students craned their necks and pushed closer to catch a better glimpse at the flutter of movement at the entrance of the Three Broomsticks.

“Who is it?”  
“Oh, Merlin…”  
“Is he dead?”

“Move aside, make way!” an auror barked, but Thomas found his feet carrying him closer as well when he caught sight of the body resting on the charred piece of wood levitating through the open doorway. He barely registered that Lucius had followed him as he weaved his way through the crowd, pressing forward until he was stopped by his friend’s firm grasp on his forearm.

“Come now, Thomas, there’s no need to torture yourself. Let’s take Narcissa and head back before-“

“It’s Ted, he’s alive!”

Lucius’ eyes snapped to his, wide with surprise. His mouth dropped open in a rare moment of stunned silence as a cheer reverberated through the crowd around them.

Ted Tonks indeed lay deathly still with his eyes clenched tight. His blonde curls were matted feverishly to his forehead and his skin was a sickly pallor, but under the cloak draped hastily over him, Thomas could see the sharp rise and fall of his chest as he gulped in the cold air greedily.

As the makeshift stretched parted the celebrations, Thomas reached out and grabbed the Hufflepuff by the shoulder firmly. “Tonks…was Andi with you? Is she still in there?”

Ted stirred at the contact and a strangled noise sounded from his throat. His closed eyelids scrunched tighter, but nothing more. 

The auror shoved past him, and Thomas turned his attention back to the tavern with an anticipatory swoop in his stomach as another rowdy cheer rose up. A gaggle of shaken, unsteady looking muggleborns shuffled out one after another, soot stained and clutching each other as they were enveloped into the arms of the congregation awaiting them.

He saw Professor Slughorn’s portly form tailing behind, half dragging a stumbling, limp student with mahogany hair, who leaned heavily into his side. He held her up with one arm around her back and the other stabilizing the arm she had thrown over his shoulders at the wrist.

“Almost there, Miss Black, come along now, right you are…just a bit further.” The professor was muttering words of encouragement as he pulled her along. Thomas was close enough to hear them now, he had moved towards them by several feet without even realizing it.

“Andi?”

She lifted her head. Thomas felt the whole world narrow down to the two of them and the rest faded away. He charged forward and caught her as she fell into him. Her hands clung weakly to the lapels of his coat as he went down on his knees and she joined him with a hoarse sob. He buried his hands into her hair and her name slipped past his lips at least a dozen more times. Andromeda rested her forehead against his, slack with exhaustion.

As she leaned bodily into him the knot that had settled in his chest was cut away, the heavy, sinking feeling of dread replaced with light, airy relief. He could feel the pounding of her heart against his chest, her short, ragged breaths against his skin.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m…” Her voice was scraped raw and she trailed off, coughing into his shoulder. Thomas tilted her head back and his thumbs ran firmly over her cheeks, wiping away the tear streaked ash to reveal the spattering of light freckles beneath standing out stark on pale skin.

“Don’t just sit there, boy, get her to the infirmary.” 

Slughorn’s harsh voice sounding above him shocked him back to his senses in time for Narcissa to drop down beside him. She threw her arms around Andromeda’s neck, clutching the charred fabric on her back in tight bunches of her fists.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Narcissa cried out as she clung fiercely to her sister, swaying side to side as Andromeda’s arms encircled her loosely. They stayed like that in silent solace until Narcissa gripped Andromeda’s face firmly in her hands to punctuate her next words. “What in Merlin’s name could have possessed you to do that? Huh? We thought you were dead, Andromeda Black, how could you? Don’t you ever, ever do something so-“

“Alright, enough of that,” Evan interjected as he gripped Narcissa’s forearms and lifted her effortlessly back to her feet despite her wriggling in his grasp.

“-Careless and stupid, I swear I could kill you myself after what you just-”

“Enough, Narcissa,” Evan repeated irritably as he maneuvered her back to Lucius, who was watching the four of them, still rendered speechless by the turn of events. “Go gather her things and bring them to Madame Pomfrey, we’ll meet you there.”

Narcissa lingered for a moment, looking between her sister and Evan before she set her jaw and whirled on her heel, storming back up the path toward the school with Lucius trailing apprehensively behind her.

Andromeda watched her leave, her forehead creased with worry as Thomas draped her arms over his shoulders and lifted her to her feet. She swayed, unsteady beside him and when she looked up to meet his gaze her eyes seemed unfocused before she dropped them to her feet.

“I’m sorry…,” she whispered.

Thomas faltered. There were too many things he wanted to say to her, too many emotions that came and went and bled into each other in such a short amount of time; panic, guilt, grief, relief, and a stubborn conflicted possessiveness that lingered as he held her resolutely against him. 

“We should get a move on,” Evan urged under his breath. Thomas followed his nervous glances along the street where Ministry officials had begun taking statements and nodded his understanding.

“Let’s go, love, your cousin and I will help you back to the castle,” Thomas murmured into her hair. She grumbled what he assumed to be a half hearted protest but Evan locked her arm around his neck and together they supported her up the path between them.

 

————

 

As the survivors of the attack licked their wounds, tucked in the beds of the Hospital Wing, Thomas licked the last drops from a bottle of fire whiskey he had hidden away in the prefects’ bathroom. 

Madam Pomfrey had been thankful for his insistence to stay at first, despite her half hearted protests. She put him to use setting up cauldrons, collecting herbs from her stores, and weighing them out. She had been so absorbed with fretting over the influx of students from Hosgmeade that she hadn’t turned him out until well past dinner time. Andromeda had been asleep for hours by then, care of a concoction of healing potions and a sleeping draught, so he didn’t put up much of a fuss when he was dismissed.

“No sense mulling about here, go get yourself some rest,” Pomfrey had instructed as she walked him to the door, “She won’t be going anywhere till morning. You can come back and fetch her then, if you care to.”

Instead of retreating back to the dormitories, Thomas had only made it 5 doors down the hall. It had taken a few hours and a good portion of his private stash, but his head was finally as blessedly empty as his bottle by the time he drew himself out of the bath and made his way back to the dungeons.

The door to the common room groaned in protest as he pushed it open, and he was surprised to be welcomed by the warm glow of a roaring fire in the hearth. It was well into the wee hours of the morning, too late for most to be still enjoying the weekend, but too early for anyone to be starting their day.

The lone figure in the room that had been nestled into the armchair by the fire jumped to their feet at his intrusion, fire poker still in hand and extended out between them defensively.

“Thomas?” Andromeda’s voice drifted over, still rough from what he assumed could only be screaming. Thomas set his jaw against the thought and stepped over the threshold. She lowered her weapon.

“Pomfrey let you go?” he asked suspiciously. She looked fresh from the showers and had changed into a her own nightgown with a silky robe draped loosely over her shoulders, tied around her middle.

“She didn’t stop me,” Andromeda replied. She was a touch shorter and a shade lighter than her sister in both looks and demeanor, but with her damp hair hanging in darkened ringlets tumbling down to the small of her back Thomas couldn’t help but see the resemblance to Bellatrix. Especially with that mischievous smirk she gave him. “Well, I told her I was going to clean up and she was snoring at her desk by the time I came back, so I suppose she couldn’t have stopped me if she wanted to.”

“What are you doing out here, then?”

“I woke up in the infirmary and couldn’t get back to sleep. I thought I would have better luck in my own bed, but,” she trailed off, averting her gaze back to the fire.

“The draught wore off?” Thomas surmised. Without the potion effects he assumed any dreams she would have tonight would be far from restful.

Andromeda shrugged. She prodded at the burning log and watched it spit embers back at her feet. “I don’t really want to face any of them in the morning anyhow. I figured I would sneak back in once everyone left for breakfast.”

“You can hide out in my dorm if you like. I can pull the curtains down on the bed, no one will know you’re there,” Thomas offered. He reached out to cover her hand, loosening her fingers from their tight grip around the metal handle of the poker. She watched him with a brow arched speculatively over her dark eyes. “You’ll be safe, I promise. I’ll come wake you when everyone has left for breakfast, but only under the condition that tomorrow, after you’re rested, you tell me about what happened today. Everything you remember, every little detail.”

Andromeda’s expression darkened but she released her grip and nodded. “What about you?”

“I’ll stay out here. No reason to waste a perfectly good fire. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time I outpaced myself on the whiskey and didn’t make it to my bed.”

Thomas leaned the poker against the bricks of the fireplace and took her hand. Wordlessly, she obliged, allowing herself to be lead up the stairs, trailing behind him.

Andromeda’s bare feet padded soundlessly across the cold stones of the sixth years’ dormitory, past the occupied four poster canopy beds to the side of his vacant one. The fire in the dorm flickered low, and Thomas watched her long shadow flit across the floor, blue on the grey ground. She lingered for a moment before she slipped in beneath the linens to the far side of the mattress and turned back to him. Her hand gripped the sheets and she lifted them, waiting for him to follow. 

The sweet invitation quickened his pulse, his heart hammering out an erratic beat at the sight of her nestled in his bed in her delicate nightgown. Still he hesitated, clinging to that irritating sense of rightness he had when he assured her he would sleep in the common room.

Then she smiled. That sort of smile that Thomas knew got her whatever she wanted and his feet carried him to the bedside in three strides, shaking him of whatever shreds of dutiful composure he clung to. 

He reached up and released the string that held up the heavy canopy drapes and as they cascaded down behind him, he withdrew his wand from his pocket and whispered, “Silencio.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she confessed. In the near total darkness, her lips brushed tentatively against his, once, twice. 

“Andi…,” He warned, but her nose insistently bumped against his and as he crawled beneath the covers their mouths fell together. She kissed him, slow and cautious, with the taste of minty toothpaste on her tongue. He canted toward her, unbidden. The fading smell of wood smoke clung to her wet hair, blending with the scents of soap and flowers, and a comforting scent that was uniquely her.

Andromeda scooted closer, adding more pressure to her lips. She grinned against him when her determined hands lifted his shirt and ventured down his chest. He felt the muscles there pull in, away from her curious fingers as he drew in a deep, steadying breath.

“You don’t want me anymore.” It wasn’t a question. Her hands withdrew from him as quick as if he had burned her. The misery in her words made the heady cloud in his head dissipate as quick as it had came. 

“What?”

“Because I stayed behind,” Andromeda clarified. He could hear the wince in her voice. “Because I couldn’t just leave.”

Thomas lowered her onto her back as he matched her form, pressing her deep into the mattress with the weight of his body. He felt her chest rise with a sharp breath when he pulled her flush against him, his desire for her pressed firm against her belly beneath the thin fabric of his slacks. He brought his mouth to her ear and she shuddered beneath him when his breath hit her skin.

“I do want you, Andi.”

“They’ll call me a traitor.”

“They’ve always called you a traitor, since when has that meant anything to me?” he murmured as he moved to tangle his fingers in her hair. His lips dragged down the column of her throat and he nipped softly over the beat of her pulse he found there. 

Andromeda swallowed hard. “Why not?”

“Mmm?” he hummed against her skin, more in favor of turning his attention to her collarbone than the question. 

“Why doesn’t it bother you?” she pressed. Her hand was at his chest between them, fixing him still. Thomas was thankful for the darkness surrounding them, concealing his own confusion as he struggled with an answer for her.

"I'm not going to lie to you. You're probably always going to be Bellatrix's blood traitor sister to almost everyone in these dungeons. But what they probably don't want to admit is that you are stronger and more brave than anyone in here could ever hope to be and that's what scares them about you. You proved that today.”

“You really mean that?” Andromeda breathed. Her hands gripped the at the hem of his shirt, urging it up, her cool touch skimming along the heated skin of his back as she went. He sat up to help her tug it over his head and heard it crumple in a heap on the floor.

“You’re already in my bed, what other reason would I have to lie to you?” The tease earned an enticing giggle from beneath him in response, but Thomas felt the familiar twinge of guilt claw its way through the comfortable haze of lust and drink to settle again in the forefront of his brain. It made him want to bury that lingering deceit with some truth. “I'm going to be leaving this castle at the end of term and I don't want to do it without experiencing something genuine for once. I honestly only feel that when I'm with you. I'm not ready to give that up just yet.”

Andromeda found his hands and intertwined her fingers with his, tugging him back down to meet her lips. Their kiss was hungry, all spearmint and whiskey. There were no more words from Andromeda Black. She didn’t have any more and honestly, Thomas had no need of them anyway. He settled down the bed with his shoulders between her knees, gathering the covers around himself as he made his way downward.

“Now, if you’re done with your inquisition, I heard you’re under strict orders to rest. So you’re going to have to lay back…” he murmured against the skin on the inside of her leg. His palms absently ran up the back of her calves and up over her knees. He thought he might have heard a disappointed noise from her but as he trailed his lips further up her sensitive skin the only response was the sound of her quick inhale and her head rocking back hard and fast against his pillow. Her hands splayed in his hair and the lazy heat that had settled in his veins since he first touched her burned through him like wildfire. “…and let me do the work.”


End file.
